


The Broken Soldier

by indiepjones46



Series: Marvelous Close Encounters [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: A Wild Karen Appears, Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But it kinda is, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Porn, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hair-pulling, Lots of come, Make it hurt, Marking, No HEA...yet, Not a Love Story, One year has passed since the final Snap, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Porny porn porn, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Racially Ambiguous OC, Rough Sex, Service Dogs, Tags May Change, UDS (Unnecessarily Detailed Smut), first in a series, i love porn, mild violence, read the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:55:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 27,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24850423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiepjones46/pseuds/indiepjones46
Summary: My name is Taylor, and I'm a former Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. still working under the mysterious umbrella of Nick Fury and Maria Hill. I lived in a world of aliens, monsters, gods, mutants, magic, and robots, and I was simply me: a plain, vanilla human that had more lives than a cat. I’d survived through the revelation of HYDRA within our ranks, the appearance of the Winter Soldier (twice), the dissolution of my agency, the death of Director Fury, the resurrection of Director Fury, Ultron, Sokovia, another attack on NYC, more aliens, more destruction, and the arrival of Thanos. I'd even survived The Snap.It was closing on the one year anniversary of the day Iron Man had sacrificed his life to save ours, but I couldn't bring myself to celebrate. I was being sidelined and taken off active duty after nearly killing my own informant, and my boss thought sticking me in a cabin in the woods of Washington would be enough to keep me out of trouble. She was so very wrong.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), Natasha Romanov/Original Female Character(s) mentioned
Series: Marvelous Close Encounters [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797760
Comments: 25
Kudos: 28





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Don't own or profit from anything trademarked or copyrighted by corporations with bottomless wallets. I'm just playin', y'all. 
> 
> Notes: It's been a hot minute since the last time I wrote anything, and I want to apologize to any readers who are familiar with my work for my absence. It's been a rough ten months for me dealing with family issues and mental health issues, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel! I'm feeling happier and more inspired in that I have in a long time, and I am so excited to share this new project with you. I hope you enjoy this series where my OC experiences sexual encounters with several different Avengers and allies with the first encounter with The Winter Soldier. I already have so many ideas about the next story and will begin writing it immediately. 
> 
> *****About the OC: I have purposely tried to write this OC as racially and physically ambiguous as possible. It is my intention that each reader form a picture of the character in their heads with the body shape and appearance left open for interpretation. This character can be any color, race, or nationality you choose. It's not what's on her outside that counts; it's what on the inside that matters.*****
> 
> If you are familiar with my stories in other fandoms, you may have heard of UDS before. UDS is my secret code for Unnecessarily Detailed Smut, and I love to write it. My sex scenes are hot, descriptive, and detailed and often contain words and actions that some readers may find objectionable. Please read the tags before proceeding.

Being an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. was a dangerous job. Not being one? It was downright deadly.

When I had first been head-hunted for the job ten years ago, I’d been a shiny, new graduate of Quantico with only six months of active duty under my belt as an FBI agent. I’d been stationed in New York City and had just closed my first big case. My team and I had tracked, hunted, infiltrated, and ultimately dismantled a human trafficking ring. We’d nabbed all the local key players and were well on our way to capturing the source in Europe, so I’d gone out for a celebratory drink at a little dive bar in Hell’s Kitchen by the name of Josie’s with two of my fellow graduates. We’d had a hell of night getting hammered, playing crappy music on the jukebox, and laughing our assess off until Josie had unceremoniously kicked us out at closing time.

_Ten years ago…_

I said my farewells to my friends as they bundled into a shared Lyft to their apartment, and I started walking the two blocks to the station where I could catch the subway back to my place. The streets of Hell’s Kitchen were never quiet, even at 3 a.m. in the morning, but I wasn’t afraid to walk alone. Not only was I highly trained in hand-to-hand combat, I was armed with one gun and two knives. There was a reason I’d graduated at the top of my class and given a plum assignment so quickly. I was that fucking good. Period.

Even though I’d been drinking steadily for several hours, I wasn’t so drunk that I didn’t notice I was being followed. I felt the shiver of awareness skitter up my spine a split second before I noticed a dark figure darting from shadow to shadow, keeping perfect pace with me no matter which way I turned. I feigned being drunker than I was and pretended to stumble and giggle my way to my destination, doing my best to lure my stalker into believing I was easy pickings. I loved it when opponents underestimated me just because I was a woman, and I used that shit to my advantage. It would be the cherry on top of my celebration sundae to beat the shit out of some dirtbag trying to mug or rape a woman walking alone at night.

I spotted a darkened alley up ahead, and I pretended to get sick by covering my mouth before ducking into the shadows that reeked of vomit, piss, and spoiled milk. I took cover behind the offending dumpster, liberated my 9mm Glock from its holster, and waited for the figure to follow me into my trap. I could feel the adrenaline zinging through my veins, burning away the effects of my drinking, and I prepared to pounce.

The only problem was that the alley wasn’t my trap. It was theirs.

They attacked me from the back, two of them, and my forehead bounced off the dumpster from the force of the blow with a resounding gong as the starting bell. My gun flew from my grip and skittered across pavement, but there was no time to mourn its loss. Starbursts of pain illuminated behind my eyelids as I instinctively tucked and rolled away from my attackers before leaping to my feet. I could feel the warm, sticky slide of blood rolling down my nose, but I compartmentalized the pain and deflected the swing of a knife from one of my attackers. Both of them came at me, giving me no room to move or kick, but that had never stopped me before and it didn’t stop me now.

Five minutes later, both attackers were out cold on the grimy concrete and I was left standing while hissing at the burn of two shallow knife wounds. Just as I liberated my cell phone from my bra to call in the attack, something struck me from behind _hard_. I flew across the narrow alley and bounced painfully off the brick exterior of a building. All the air in my lungs was gone from the blow, and my brain couldn’t seem to figure out how to get more.

There was no time to pause and reflect, though. The original stalker had finally shown themselves, and they were intent on killing me. I almost stumbled as I realized my shadow was most definitely a woman. The first clue was that she was shorter than me by almost three inches, and the second one was when she grabbed me in a vicious choke-hold and I could feel the imprint of her substantial breasts against my bruised spine. Somehow, the thought that my unknown assassin was a female gave me the spark of fury that allowed me to break her hold.

We circled each other warily, and I clocked the glint of two knives—one in each fist. My lungs expanded and contracted with frenzied breaths as I liberated my own knife from the hidden sheath sewed into my pants. “Bitch,” I broke the tense silence with a curse, “I don’t know who you are or why you’re here, but I do know that you are going to regret fucking with me.”

The shadows were so deep that I could barely make out the silhouette of her fit, curvy body. Her posture reeked of casual confidence, and I adjusted my stance to match it. “Her shit-talking could use some work, but I like what I’m seeing so far,” her sinful, whiskey voice announced, but I knew she wasn’t talking to me. And that scared the hell out of me.

“Drop your weapons, lady,” I warned her, my grip firming on the hilt of my knife. “If you don’t, I’ll make you.”

Her throaty laughter sent gooseflesh racing across my arms, over my shoulders, and down my chest until my nipples turned stiff and painful. “You were right, Clint. She’s a keeper. See you in five,” she replied to an unseen audience. Having concluded her business with ‘Clint,’ she resumed a fighting stance and flashed a wicked smile that gleamed even in the dark. “Tell you what, Agent Taylor,” she said, finally talking directly to me, “If you can disarm and subdue me, I’ll tell you who I am and why I’m here.”

My mind clicked and whirred as my senses tried desperately to pick up on any clues that would point me to her weaknesses. My instincts screamed at me that this was no ordinary street criminal; this woman was in a whole class of her own. I wasn’t modest about my ability to fight and win, but I was also honest about my limitations. I had a bad feeling that this woman was way beyond every one of them.

“And if I don’t manage to subdue you?” I asked, pretty sure I already knew the answer.

Her silhouette shrugged with indifference. “Then, I kill you.”

I believed her.

That was all I needed to hear. Now that I knew what the stakes were in this situation, I knew how to respond to it. I hooked the toe of my sneaker into an empty coffee can that had escaped the dumpster and kicked it at her face. It took only a second for her to dodge my impromptu missile, but that was all I needed. My other foot sailed through the air and connected with her right hand, sending her knife sailing into the shadows. One down, one to go.

The fight was fierce and fast, each of us blocking and taking blows, but it was obvious to both of us that she was the better fighter. I still managed to disarm the remaining knife, but subduing her would be much more difficult. I was trying to win without killing her, but she was under no such obligation. Each kick, punch, and take down was delivered upon me with practiced, deadly intent. The alleyway rang with our shouts and grunts, along with the sounds of flesh striking flesh, but we were oddly undisturbed by pedestrians or authorities.

In mere minutes, she had me in a chokehold from behind, her legs wrapped around my waist, and my vision darkened and my lungs screamed for air. I had only seconds before I would be unconscious or dead. With what little strength I had left, I slammed her against the brick building until her arms and legs loosened. The rush of air to my abused lungs burned, but I sucked it down as I spun around and landed a solid hit to her cheekbone.

Taking advantage of her dazed hesitation, I spun her toward the brick wall, wrapped her ponytail around my fist, and pressed her cheek against the rough surface as I pinned every inch of her small stature. “Bitch, I will shred your face like cheese if you so much as twitch an eyebrow,” I snarled, applying pressure on my hold.

Remarkably, my assailant laughed again, but this time it held a note of enjoyment. “Oh, yes, you will work out just fine. I yield, Agent Taylor. Let me go, and we can go get cleaned up before I give you a tour of your new office.”

Her abrupt change in demeanor and tone only added to the confusion of her words. Without meaning to, I released my hold on her and stepped back, but she did not take the opening to attack me. Instead, she began stretching her arms and popping her neck as she groaned in sincere misery. “Damn, I knew I shouldn’t have taken it easy on you,” she muttered crankily while touching her swollen cheek. “Still, part of the interview process is examining the applicant’s fighting technique, so I had no choice but to let you fight me, right?”

There I stood, bloody and drunk, aching from a thousand points on my body, at almost 4 a.m. in the morning, in a dark alleyway full of garbage and two unconscious men, with the smell of sweat and soiled diapers filling my lungs, on the night of my first weekend off in over six weeks, and I just stared at her.

Maybe that blow to my head against the dumpster had done more damage than I thought, but all I could think to say was, “Lady, who the fuck are you?”

I could see the silhouette of her right hand raise up as if offering me a handshake. I hesitated for a long moment, but when she didn’t drop the offer, I reluctantly slid my hand into hers for a shake. “Natasha Romanoff, Special Agent, S.H.I.E.L.D.”

My jaw dropped and an embarrassing squeak escaped my throat as I continued to shake her hand like an idiot. “You’re with S.H.I.E.L.D.? As in, like, _The S.H.I.E.L.D.?_ ”

Most of the general public didn’t even know about the organization’s existence, but once I started at Quantico, I began to hear things about the shadowy agency. All the new recruits gossiped and told stories about them, most of them likely pure bullshit, but my curiosity had been piqued. I remember the day I’d asked my superior if S.H.I.E.L.D. even existed or if it was a hoax. To my surprise, he’d answered that it was indeed a real agency, but he would say no more. My curiosity turned into obsession, but no matter who I asked or where I searched, I could never find out how to contact them, much less apply for a job with them.

“Yep,” she replied succinctly, her lips popping on the ‘p’. “And now, so are you. Congratulations, you’re hired, and all that other crap. Let’s go, Agent Taylor. I told my partner I’d see him in five minutes, and it’s already been eight. I don’t know about you, but I could use a shot of whiskey, a hot shower, and a few aspirin. In that order.”

Ignoring my dumbfounded silence, she walked right past me and headed for the entrance to the street. I glanced down at the two figures still out cold on the concrete, but I had no time to spare on them. I couldn’t let her get away from me now. I sped up my pace until I joined her in a brisk walk on the strangely deserted sidewalk.

“Wait a minute,” I wheezed, clutching my ribs where she’d landed a barrage of blows. “What do you mean by I’m hired? I didn’t even apply for a job.”

Under the illumination of the street lamps and security lights, I finally got a good look at her. As I knew, she was a few inches shorter than me, but every bit of her was fit and curvy. Even disheveled and bleeding, everything about her screamed BOMBSHELL, and I was not immune to her appeal. Her voice was smoky and curled around me as she replied, “No one applies for a job with S.H.I.E.L.D.; they are acquired. The Director himself handpicks new elite field agents, and he dispatches either me or my partner, Clint, to vet his choices.”

At this point, I wasn’t too sure why I was still walking with her instead of escaping and contacting my commanding supervisor, but I stayed and continued to question her. “So, what? You’re saying I don’t have a say in the matter? Just…bam! You’re an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.? What if I refuse? I signed a three-year commitment to work for the FBI. If I quit now, I owe them money for all the expense of processing my application and training. Have you seen the rent prices in NYC? I can barely afford my bar tab tonight, much less pay the federal government thousands of dollars for quitting six months into the job for another that I know nothing about.”

Natasha tossed her head to indicate a non-descript, black SUV that sat idling at the curb. “It’s been handled,” she brushed off my concerns as she opened the back door of the vehicle and climbed inside. She patted the seat next to her and added, "Your Director has been informed by my Director, and now you work for us. Hop in, Agent Taylor.”

My suspicious nature warred with my unnatural curiosity as I considered whether or not to accept her command that had been politely dressed up as an invitation. In the end, I climbed inside the vehicle with her and closed the door.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s been ten long years since I made that decision. I am no longer the spry and eager 24 year old that got into the SUV; now, I am a hard, cynical 34 year old woman with a healthy bank account and no time to enjoy it. Unbeknownst to me, I had been acquired to fill a vacancy…Natasha’s. She and her partner, Clint Barton, had been reassigned to a new division called The Avengers Initiative, and I had been chosen to take her place in the field. That meant that the Black Widow herself had made sure I was trained to her standards. We’d also found ourselves in each other’s bed from time-to-time, too.

Less than a year after I joined S.H.I.E.L.D., the Attack on New York happened. Somehow, I managed to survive an invading alien army, giant metal worm skeletons that flew out of the sky, and a rampaging green Hulk that smashed anything the aliens had left untouched. My life from that point forward would never be the same again. I lived in a world of aliens, monsters, gods, mutants, magic, and robots, and I was simply me: a plain, vanilla human that had more lives than a cat. I’d survived through the revelation of HYDRA within our ranks, the appearance of the Winter Soldier (twice), the dissolution of my agency, the death of Director Fury, the resurrection of Director Fury, Ultron, Sokovia, another attack on NYC, more aliens, more destruction, and the arrival of Thanos.

I’d even survived The Snap. The last six years of my life had been purely miserable. Millions of people were just gone, among them my mother and most of my coworkers. What began as chaos and panic soon turned into resignation and bitterness as the survivors realized that this time we wouldn’t be saved. Not by S.H.I.E.L.D. and not by The Avengers. All we could do was survive and try to build a life out of the ruins of our world.

During those five miserable years after The Snap, I’d had no time to grieve or wail for my losses. I had been far too busy working my ass off by going wherever Natasha had ordered me. See, Thanos thought that erasing 50% of our population would create balance, but he knew nothing about human nature. The people of Earth had evolved unchecked by contact from outside our world, and that meant that we were programmed to live within a vacuum. Anything you take away from us will be replaced by something else, either better or worse. Take my word for it that it was much worse.

Humanity had collectively lost their minds after The Snap. There was chaos, confusion, rioting, and worldwide anarchy for months. Hundreds of thousands more people died around the world, but the true number of deaths was still unknown. When Thanos had snapped his fingers, half the people on Earth had simply floated away in ashes. That meant that parents had vanished, leaving their small children behind alone. That meant that there were no longer enough doctors and nurses and caretakers for the sick and the elderly, and not enough police and military to quell the riots.

The Avengers had no longer been assembled: Tony Stark had retired to the country, Thor had abandoned everyone for an endless pint of ale, Banner had gone on a spiritual journey, and Hawkeye had gone rogue. With Fury and Hill both gone, that had left Nat and Steve Rogers to help restore law and order amongst the few of us that remained of the Avengers, their allies, and S.H.I.E.L.D. As a senior field agent, I had taken my orders directly from Nat, and she had dispatched me around the world where my skill set was needed most.

I hadn’t cared where I was sent or what I was sent to do; I went and I did it. I’d relished the non-stop work, and I had thrown myself into danger with reckless abandon. It had been less about helping others than it had been about punishing myself for surviving it all. While I was traveling, fighting, and rescuing, I didn’t have to think about the fact that the only people who had truly loved me were gone. For five years solid, I’d worked without break, taking the toughest assignments that were offered. What little downtime I’d had was spent drinking by myself at Josie’s bar. Of course, it hadn’t been Josie’s anymore; she’d been dusted, too.

It had turned out that losing everyone I’d ever loved had an adverse effect on me. Instead of gathering my friends and allies closer, I’d pushed everyone away. Steve had tried to cajole me into attending his survivor support group, and I’d flipped him the bird as my answer. Even Nat hadn’t been able to bridge the black chasm that had grown between us, and I’d quickly become a surly, cynical asshole. I hadn’t been able to help myself at all, and everyone that could have helped me were gone.

And then, during the midst of a terrible battle between Thanos and his forces versus the Avengers and their allies, they were all back. The _billions_ of people who had disappeared five years prior were _back_. It had taken months for the chaos to settle and for the official story to be told to the world. Collectively, we mourned the loss Tony Stark, the Iron Avenger of Earth, and privately, I still mourned the loss of Natasha. We both had known that a real relationship between us would never work out, but we had still been close both in and out of the bedroom. A sizeable chunk of my heart had died along with her. Sometimes, I wondered how much heart I had left.

The second Snap, courtesy of Banner, had plunged the world right back into chaos and confusion when billions of people reappeared as if they’d never left. Pandemonium at an unprecedented level rocked our world for the second time in five years, and we had not been ready for it. Even a year later, we were still dealing with the fallout of having our population restored after five years of very little mass food production. The survivors had not anticipated their return, therefore the 50% had returned without homes, jobs, family members, husbands, wives, lovers, and friends. Even in the best of scenarios, those that had returned were still suffering. For them, no time had passed, but everything had changed.

So, here we were on the one-year anniversary of The Return. At least, that’s what the media has been calling it. How do you celebrate the day that families were reunited where some had aged and lived for five years while the others experienced no time loss? How do you memorialize the horrific losses that were suffered by the survivors? The world was still trying to figure it out, and so was I. 

The Returned are now experiencing all the pain, suffering, and loss that the survivors had lived with for five years. The survivors, already racked with guilt for moving on with their lives, were faced with the added weight of resentment at once again reordering their lives no matter how happy they may be to be reunited. So, that begs the question…how exactly was the world supposed to celebrate The Return?

I pondered my guilt and resentment at my own situation as I jogged along a trail in Central Park. See, four years after Mom had been dusted, I’d finally faced the reality of her loss. I’d taken what few mementos I cherished of her from her home in Poughkeepsie and auctioned off the rest, including her house. When my mother had unexpectedly reappeared a year ago along with the other Retuned, she’d had nothing left to call her own, except for me. We’ve shared my cramped apartment for almost a year now, and even though I am beyond ecstatic that she’s back, I find myself staying away more frequently to avoid the guilt and remorse.

Even though the world was slowly figuring out a new normal, I was still stuck in the same pattern of working and drinking too much while avoiding personal attachments with others. I’ve been home for only two days from my last assignment, and I was already itching to get back into the field. Mom and I couldn’t seem to find a way to communicate anymore that didn’t involve us either screaming and crying, or hugging and crying. I couldn’t stay in the apartment with her anymore, so I had used the excuse of a run to get out there.

I pushed my body mercilessly for over an hour as I pounded the pavement and dodged pedestrians, children, and pigeons while listening to my favorite podcast, _Power Watch._ It was a podcast by two female BFFs all about powered people with a whole lot of gossip and fangirling, but there was also investigative insight into the current status and whereabouts of the powered. Of course, their favorite topics were always centered around the Avengers and their allies, and they discussed each of them in hilarious detail on each week’s show. Even if I hadn’t been ordered by Maria Hill to monitor them, I still would have listened to it for the pure entertainment value of it. 

_“…And what about the reformed bad boy, James “Bucky” Barnes? Has anyone caught sight of the former Winter Soldier since his Return from The Snap? That was the question we asked on our last show, and boy, did you guys ever deliver! Our Twitter feed and inboxes were flo-o-ooded with alleged sightings of the Man with a Metallic Arm. I hate to disappoint you, Karen from California, but that picture you sent us is NOT Captain America’s childhood friend. We’re pretty sure the former assassin would not be working as a barista in your coffee shop.”_

_“That’s right, Ashley,”_ her bestie, Brit, chimed in, _“It seems that we have identified at least two credible sightings of the former-Hydra Hottie in the most unexpected of places! You’ll never guess where he’s hiding—”_

Her voice was cut off unexpectedly by the fellow jogger who appeared by my side as if from nowhere when she yanked the earbud from my ear. Not missing a step in my punishing stride, I huffed, “If you have another mission for me, the answer is yes.”

The woman jogging in perfect sync with me looked like any other fit and active woman dressed in form-hugging leggings, fitted tee shirt, and well-worn running shoes. Her dark, shiny hair was restrained in a simple ponytail, and her chocolate eyes were shielded from the morning sun behind unassuming sunglasses. My current boss, Maria Hill, didn’t even sound out of breath when she replied, “I do have an assignment for you, but you’re not going to like it.”

I snorted with unladylike disdain. “I don’t actually like most of them, but that’s never stopped me before. Where am I being dispatched to this time? Bucharest? New Delhi? Moscow? Or am I going back to Wakanda?”

I’d spent quite a bit of time over the years in the African country helping clean up in the aftermath of The Snap on Natasha’s orders, though it hadn’t been the first time I’d visited the secretive country. With the royal family dusted, the reigns had fallen to Okoye, the General of the royal bodyguards known as the Dora Milaje. She was one of the very few humans who had ever earned my respect and my friendship. She’d never given up hope that King T’Challa and his sister, Shuri, would reclaim the throne, and she’d acted in their stead as Regent until their Return. I would not be sorry to be assigned there again to work with the fierce, powerful woman.

“None of the above,” Maria ruthlessly crushed my hopes as we slowed down to a fast walk. “This mission will take you to the state of Washington to a secluded cabin on the banks of Lake Chelan. Travel, accommodations, and essentials have been secured, as per usual. Departure time in approximately five minutes.”

That wasn’t much notice, but I was used to that. “Sounds boring, but I’m in. At this point, I’d volunteer to scrub toilets in a North Korean prison with my toothbrush if it meant getting out of my apartment.”

She cracked a rare, lopsided smile, and replied drily, “That won’t be necessary, Taylor. I took the liberty of informing your mother about your absence and packing you a bag for your stay. We anticipate the mission to last for at least two weeks, if not longer.”

I absently wiped the sweat from my brow with my forearm as we slowed to a stop at the entrance to the park. “I assume all the normal protections for Mom are in place?” At Maria’s curt nod of affirmation, I said, “Good enough. What’s the mission this time?”

Not that it would matter. I’d become something of a jack-of-all-trades over the past ten years. I could never be on the same level as Nat as an Avenger, but I was damn close. She had been an excellent, if brutal mentor.

A full-blown smile wreathed her face as a sleek, black SUV pulled up to the curb and idled. A foreboding sense of déjà vu washed over me as she opened the back door and slid inside. She patted the empty seat next to her and replied, “There is no mission. You’re going on mandatory R&R. Just you, a cabin in the woods, and Lake Chelan. Hop in, Taylor.”


	3. Chapter 3

Mandatory fucking vacation.

For the entire flight to the state of Washington, I begged, argued, cursed, and threatened my boss in order to get out of it, but she would not be swayed. She very baldly stated that I was being cut off from job resources until further notice. She gave me some bullshit about “accruing too many hours of PTO” as if we still worked for a legitimately funded agency with a Human Resources department, but I knew better. The real reason I was being grounded was because I was becoming a liability in the field. My decision making abilities had been suffering for a while now, but I’d thought I’d covered them enough to escape notice. Apparently not.

The QuinJet settled into a clearing surrounding a modest, but modern, log cabin on the banks of Lake Chelan in Washington state. Even though I didn’t want to be here, I couldn’t help but admire the peaceful beauty of the secluded cabin surrounded by trees on every side except for the water. The whole scene smacked of dramatic movies where the stars have a chance encounter in the woods and fall in love. There was even a picturesque fucking dock where I could sit to dangle my feet in the lake. Give me a fucking break. I knew better than anyone that real life was more like an ever-changing and never-ending horror film with no happily ever after. Hell, there hasn’t even been any sex scenes to offer relief from the gore of my life. I’ve been too busy trying to avoid the emotional ball of shit threatening to drown me if I stopped long enough to acknowledge it. That didn’t leave me much time or opportunity to scratch that particular itch.

The temperature was a bit cool for early May, but it was a welcome relief from the already stifling heat of the Bronx where my apartment was located. I wanted to hate everything about my comfortable prison and I wanted to be bitter about my enforced exile, but I was mostly just tired. I tried to resent the hell out of the calming effects of the serene location, but I was powerless to resist the lure of rest.

Maria had the gall to take a deep breath of the moist, cool breeze and stretch her arms over her head as she delivered me directly to the door of the cabin. “Man, I love this place. This has to be my favorite safe house in the Pacific Northwest. We own the other three cabins in this area, too, but this one is the best.”

She typed in a code on the security pad and ushered me inside. I don’t know what made me crankier about this situation: the fact that I was being sidelined, or the thought that I should have been sooner. I chose to focus on a petty reason instead, as is my forte. “You say ‘we’ as if I have a clue what that means. Who exactly are ‘we,’ Maria? Are we S.H.I.E.L.D.? Are we Avengers? Who exactly are we working for, _boss_?” I asked with reckless disregard for my career, health, and life.

She tossed my go-bag on the polished wood flooring and gifted me with a tight smile. “We work for the people of Earth, Taylor. We work for every living being on this planet, because it is our home. It is a duty and a responsibility we don’t take lightly, but it is also a job for which you are well paid.” She paused to stare into my very soul for an uncomfortable moment before she said, “Any more questions?”

“Well, I mean, yeah I do, but I’m not going to ask them now,” I grumbled, retreating gracefully from her wrath.

“Good,” she replied crisply. “Here’s how this is going to go. You’re going to stay here in this cabin until you get your shit together. That means sleeping, eating, and resting. There is no internet access or mobile reception for two miles, so you will not have access to computers or cell phones. There is a nice television, but it only plays movies that have been pre-programmed. A landline phone is located in the kitchen, but it should never be used unless it is a life-or-death situation. In the detached garage, you will find a serviceable vehicle, but it should only be used for quick trips to town for supplies.”

My spirits sank lower and lower as she gave me a short tour through the cozy, two person cabin. Though it was only comprised of a combination kitchen/living room, master bedroom, and full bath, it was still lushly appointed. There was a gas fireplace in the living room with an overstuffed couch and lounger nearby, a quality music system with both vinyl and CDs, a bookshelf overflowing with fiction novels of every genre, and a fully-stocked kitchen and bar. The bed took up much of the floor space of the bedroom, but it was well worth it. It was king sized and memory foam, and it had the perfect amount of soft, fuzzy blankets that felt like kitten fur under my fingertips.

The bathroom was the crown jewel, though. There was an honest-to-god claw-foot tub that could comfortably fit two people very intimately. The built-in shelves nearby were stacked with fluffy white towels and an assortment of bath bombs, salts, and scrubs. Candles of every shape and size were scattered strategically around the tub centerpiece, and it was obvious that someone had taken great care to ensure use of the thing. There was also a small shower stall, but it seemed to be designed for discomfort as if the contractors wished to discourage its use. Subliminal message, it was not.

I trotted along after her like a kicked puppy as she headed for the door. She opened it before turning back to face me one last time. “I’ll be taking your cell phone and comms, not that they would work here anyway. I strongly discourage you from attempting to contact anyone when you travel to town.”

My bitterness warred with my fear as I begrudgingly slapped my phone and comms into her outstretched palm. “You’re not taking my weapons without a fight,” I warned her irritably, but sincerely.

She rolled her eyes and sighed, “Of course I wouldn’t take your weapons. In fact, there are many more stashed in strategic locations throughout the cabin and grounds. Hopefully, you won’t need them. This is supposed to be a vacation, after all.”

I growled under my breath as she sauntered back toward the jet without a backward glance. “What if another alien attack happens or another Ultron appears?” I called after her desperately.

She didn’t break stride as she boarded the jet. Before closing the door, she called back to me, “We’ll take care of it. Don’t call us; we’ll call you.”

Then, the bitch left me here without another word.


	4. Chapter 4

It only took me two hours to inspect the cabin, garage, and immediate surroundings. I did manage to find several more guns, but mostly I just found fishing poles and a dinghy. The car was nothing special; just a gently-used sedan that was forgotten as soon as it was looked at. There were no neighbors in sight, not even the echo of their voices, but my ears rang with the sound of birds and insects. The cool breeze off the lake brought goosebumps to my skin, and it smelled of evergreen and rain. The whole fucking place just dripped with tranquility, and I both loved it and hated it.

When the sun began to set with a splendorous show of pinks and purples reflected off the gently lapping lake, I made my way back inside the cabin to have a good old fashioned melt-down. I didn’t want to think about the fact that I was alone with no distractions or fights to keep me from reflecting on the shitstorm of emotions brewing in my chest. I didn’t want to remember all the trauma, pain, and loss I’d suffered over the past ten years. I just needed to keep moving forward and find a new way of distracting myself.

With that thought in mind, I armed the security code behind me and headed for the sound system. I browsed through the CDs first, but I didn’t find what I was looking for until I searched through the vinyl. I slipped Led Zeppelin’s _Led Zeppelin IV_ reverently from its sleeve, positive I was holding an original copy. I carefully placed the needle at the start of the album and adjusted the speakers until _Black Dog_ filled every room in the small cabin.

With Robert Plant crooning in my ear, I wandered over to the kitchen and began searching through the cabinets and refrigerator. My rumbling stomach reminded me that I needed to eat, and I was suddenly ravenous. With mounting excitement, I unearthed all the ingredients I needed to make a simple pasta dish and garlic bread, and I threw together my impromptu meal while singing about a stairway to heaven. While my pasta steamed in the bowl, I selected a decent bottle of wine and poured myself a glass.

I ate my meal with gusto as I perused the book shelf for anything that caught my interest, but I was too antsy to settle on anything. After I finished eating and cleaning up after myself, I grabbed my large duffel bag and hauled it to the bedroom. Even though I dragged it out as long as I could, it still only took me fifteen minutes to put everything away. I spent another ten minutes distributing my accumulated weaponry in convenient spots, and then I was out of things to do. What was I supposed to do now?

I heaved a resigned sigh and changed into a pair of yoga pants and a baggy tee shirt I found in the dresser, and I slipped a pair of fuzzy socks on my feet. There was no point in fighting the inevitable. I was going to have to relax. On my way to the couch and television, I snagged the open bottle of wine and my empty glass. I paused to turn on the gas fireplace to ward off the increasing chill, took the needle off the record, and dimmed the remaining lights before settling myself into a couch corner. In no time, I found _The Matrix_ and I lost myself in the story.

About an hour into the movie, I’d drunk two more glasses of wine and my body radiated with warmth from the gas fire and lap blanket I’d wrapped around myself. I was warm and comfortable, and my stomach was full of good food and good alcohol. Exhaustion swept in like a thief in the night, and I passed out.

I woke abruptly and I instinctively reached for my gun as I slid off the couch to case the room. I don’t know exactly what roused me from my deep sleep, but I was alert and the hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end. I paused in a crouch between the fireplace and lounge, and I strained my ears to listen for any out of place noises. I heard only the soft drumming of rain against the windows and the fake crackle of logs in the gas fireplace.

When my senses insisted that something was still amiss, I silently crept to the front window and cautiously peeked through the curtain at the front yard. Without thinking, I released the safety on my weapon and held it ready as I scanned the yard for something, anything out of the ordinary. I guessed it to be close to 5 a.m. since the sky was just beginning to lighten, but it wasn’t quite dawn yet. That meant that I had slept six hours straight without waking from a nightmare; a feat I hadn’t achieved in more years than I could count. 

I saw movement at the tree line to the east of the cabin, and I narrowed in on an animal of some kind. It was difficult to make out exactly what kind it was through the rain and gloom, but it was too small to be a bear and too large to be a cat. Wolf maybe? Curiosity piqued, I eased the front door open and flowed outside into the chilly drizzle of pre-dawn. I kept my gun ready but pointing to the ground as I crept closer to the edge of the cabin and closer to the animal. As if it were doing the same thing, the animal cautiously approached me, too.

We both paused a stone’s throw away from each other as we took each other’s measure. To my astonishment, the animal was actually a dog. It appeared to be a pit bull terrier of some kind with the blocky head and thick body, but its ears and tail were intact. I couldn’t determine its color just yet, but the dog had a collar and tag and definitely didn’t look malnourished. It must be someone’s pet that had slipped its leash and managed to find its way here.

I’d never had the opportunity to interact much with dogs, so I was going to have to wing it. Growing up in the Bronx, Mom and Dad had never let me have one, and there was no time for a pet after college, Quantico, and S.H.I.E.L.D. I took another step toward the dog and gauged its reaction. All it did was sit on its haunches, lick raindrops off its nose, and wag its tail. I took that for a good sign and decided to press my luck. “Hey, there,” I crooned softly to it, steadily inching closer. “Where’s your people, buddy? It’s awful cold and wet out here to be exploring. You want to come inside and dry off until we can find your owner?”

Apparently, I must have said the magic word, because it barked and trotted happily over to me. I held my clenched fist down for it to sniff my scent and gauge if it would bite, but all it did was lick my knuckles and push it’s wide head into my thigh. With a relieved chuckle, I holstered my weapon and used both hands to check the affectionate hound for injury or wounds while it wiggled with excitement and licked any part of my skin it could reach. Thankfully, the dog appeared to be the picture of health and was very obviously someone’s beloved pet.

I didn’t want to risk grabbing its collar in case that triggered an attack, so I just gestured to the front door and announced, “Let’s go inside. I’ve got the fireplace going.”


	5. Chapter 5

The dog woofed with excitement and bolted for the door. I had to jog to keep up with it, and it pawed at the door impatiently as I keyed in the entrance code. Once the door swung open, the affectionate beast shook itself vigorously before crossing the threshold and trotted inside as if it lived there. I shook my head with wry amusement as I followed it inside and shut the door behind us. The dog investigated the living room and kitchen in short order, pausing to sniff different things delicately, but it left them behind quickly.

I kept a wary eye on the beast as it explored while I flipped on lights and started a pot of coffee to brew. While the liquid gold sputtered and hissed, I tracked the dog down to the bathroom. I flipped on the light and finally got a real good look at her. Yes, I could tell it was a her now, and she was beautiful. Her fur was a deep blue-black with a white chest and paws, but it would likely be a lighter color when her fur was dry. Around her neck was a plain woven collar with a tag that said simply _Rosa_.

“Rosa? Is that your name?” I asked her redundantly. She woofed at me, so I took that as confirmation. “Okay, Rosa, I need to get cleaned up and changed before we can go look for your people, so maybe you could go lay down by the fire or something.”

Rosa cocked her head to the side and answered by putting a front paw on the rim of the tub and whining pitifully. I finally understood what people meant by the saying “puppy dog eyes,” because she was going all-out on dialing up the cuteness factor as she struggled to climb into the bathtub with determination.

“Seriously?” I demanded as I rescued her from toppling over the tall edge of the clawfoot tub. I helped her settle herself inside and she licked my face with enthusiasm as thanks. “So…what? You want a bath? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

Rosa wiggled her whole body, her tongue lolling from between powerful jaws, and I sighed heavily. I guessed it wouldn’t hurt to give her a quick bath. Either way, it was going to smell like wet dog in here.

After plugging the tub and turning on the water, I turned to the shelf stocked with expensive shampoos, soaps, and creams to find something suitable for washing a dog. To my surprise, I actually located a bottle of fancy dog shampoo, so I grabbed it and a towel and proceeded to bathe a dog for the first time in my life. Rosa was apparently an old pro at the whole bathing thing, because she lifted her neck and legs without me asking her to, making it easier to wash her. It also helped that the custom tub had a detachable shower wand that made it easier to reach her soapy hindquarters.

I placed my hand on her back to prevent shaking as I turned off the water and drained the tub. In a mock stern tone, I admonished her, “No shaking, Rosa. Wait until I use the towel first.”

Remarkably, she didn’t even twitch when I had to release her to get the towel. She happily stood still, her tail wagging slowly as if to not splash me, while I scrubbed her vigorously with the fluffy towel. With her help, I got her out of the tub and she stood stiffly as if waiting for a command. Shrugging my shoulders, I told her, “Okay, you can shake now, but go do it in front of the fire. There’s a big enough mess in here for me to clean up.”

Rosa licked my fingertips before trotting out of the bathroom. A few moments later, I heard the distinct tinkling of her collar, and I knew she had obeyed me. Was she that well-trained or just that smart? Someone had to be missing her, because I know I would if she were my dog. I tried not to think about that for long, though. The fact was that she was not my dog, and I couldn’t own one. Not with the life I lead.

The scent of roasted nirvana tickled my nose and put me into action. I hastily mopped up water, cleaned the tub, and restored order before shedding my damp clothes. I paused to gaze longingly at the tub christened by someone else’s dog and vowed to try it myself later in the evening. For now, a hasty shower in the tiny stall would have to suffice. Afterward, I dressed in a worn pair of jeans, light blue sweater, my favorite boots, and several weapons. I eschewed makeup for expediency and tied my hair back in a sloppy bun, called it good enough, and headed for my coffee reward.

A few minutes later, I carried my cup to the couch and chuckled at the sight of Rosa rolling around on her back with all four legs in the air by the fireplace. “I’m glad one of us is living their best life,” I remarked wryly. “I guess we have a few hours to kill before it gets light enough outside to search for your owner. Want to see what we can rustle up to eat?”

That brought the dog to her feet in a hurry. We headed to the kitchen in search of sustenance, but while I headed for the fridge, she headed for a cabinet and scratched at it. I opened it up expecting pots and pans, but instead found an airtight container of dog kibble and bowls. I glanced at her with suspicion and demanded, “How did you know that was there? Have you been here before or something?”

Her expression gave nothing away except for the drool slowly gathering at the tip of her panting tongue. I rolled my eyes and retrieved the bowls, and before long Rosa was not-so-daintily snarfing down her breakfast between loud slurps of water. I left her to it and set about making my own meal of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. Nothing like caffeine, carbs, and protein to start the day.

By the time we were done eating and cleaning up after ourselves, the sky had ripened with fresh sunrise on what promised to be a beautiful, if cool, spring day. I grabbed a couple bottles of water, turned off the gas fireplace, and ushered Rosa out the door. I armed the alarm after us and headed to the east where I’d first spotted her, and she trotted along beside me without a care in the world.

“I didn’t think to look for a leash, so we’re just going to have to go on the honor system here, okay?” I informed her matter-of-factly. “You can explore, but don’t run off. You might not find someone nearly as accommodating as me next time.”

If I remembered correctly, I’d noticed another cabin similar to mine as the QuinJet had descended for landing. It was approximately two klicks due east from my place, and it only made sense that Rosa likely belonged there. If I struck out, I would drive her to the nearest vet to check for a microchip. Either way, I would get some exercise and Rosa could do her business somewhere other than my cabin.

Even though there wasn’t a clear-cut path through the trees, the foliage was still sparse enough from the recent winter that it didn’t pose much of a challenge for either of us. We chatted and woofed to each other as we leisurely made our way toward the nearest cabin, and I wondered who I would find living there—if anyone. Maria had mentioned that we owned three other cabins in the area, so it only made sense that whoever would be staying there would be a friendly. Then again, Maria had neglected to mention if any of the others were currently occupied, too.

Still, as we drew close enough to smell wood smoke, I liberated my gun and held it ready for use. I could assume a lot of things, but I would never assume my own safety. Rosa, however, grew more animated and excited the moment the small log cabin came into view and began to sprint toward the door while barking joyously. I paused on the edge of the tree line behind a tree, my gun ready but out of sight, as the door swung open and revealed a large, very shirtless man filling the frame.

“Where the hell have you been?” his deep, rumbling voice floated to my ears. “I thought we had an understanding about staying close to the cabin. We both know how you feel about a leash.”

She whined pitifully until he gave in and scratched her ears. Knowing she had been absolved of wrong-doing, she yipped playfully at him before prancing out of his reach. Each time he reached for her, she drew him a little closer to where I was hiding in the brush. My heart pounded in my throat and my stomach swooped with both fear and excitement, because I knew this man. We’d met only once before, and it had been under strained circumstances. I didn’t fool myself into believing I was as unforgettable as he was, and I wasn’t sure how he would react to my sudden, unannounced presence.

“For fuck’s sake, Rosa,” the man huffed, annoyed. “What’s gotten into you?”

She barked twice before ratting me out by heading straight for me. The man’s gaze followed her until she came to a stop by my side, and I saw the moment he realized that he was not alone. He didn’t flinch or reach for a weapon, though there were precious few places to hide them since he was only wearing plaid pajama bottoms. This man didn’t need guns or knives, though he was proficient in his use of both. His entire body was a weapon, right down to the glinting black metal arm attached to his left shoulder.


	6. Chapter 6

We stared at each other for a long, uncomfortable moment before I finally found my tongue. I gently eased my gun back in its holster before I stepped fully into view and took a cautious step forward. “Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Barnes, but I believe this beast belongs to you?” I asked, already sure of the answer.

He licked his bottom lip and cleared his throat before he rasped, “Fortunately, no. I’m just dog-sitting against my will. Your boss foisted her off on me in exchange for allowing me use of the cabin for a while.”

My eyebrow arched in surprise. He remembered me? The only time I’d seen him had been seven years ago—one year before The Snap when we were both in Wakanda at the same time. He’d been dressed in native clothing, and he’d only had one arm at the time; and I’d been on a diplomatic mission with Maria Hill. We’d been sent by Fury to gather intelligence on the new king, T’Challa, and to follow-up on rumors that the Winter Soldier was no longer under the ice. On the surface, we were there on behalf of the World Council to broker an alliance with the powerful nation, but in truth, we’d been there to spy.

“My boss, Maria Hill?” I asked, redundantly. When he nodded in confirmation, I blurted, “That bitch. She always told me she was highly allergic to them.”

His chuckle sounded rusty, as if he hadn’t practiced the skill in a long time. “Are you more shocked that she lied to you or that you believed her?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” I replied with a wry smile that produced another sexy chuckle.

It was a battle on my part to keep my eyes focused above his neck, because the rest of him was too tempting for words. His body was trim, but tightly muscled from physical labor, and his left arm was a mirror of his right sheathed in inky Vibranium-steel alloy. I was fascinated by the technology involved in his prosthetic, but I had been just as enthralled with him when he had been without it back in Wakanda. Still, the prosthetic was enticing in its ability to move and perform just like his real one, and my fingertips itched to touch it.

Focusing above his neck had its own rewards, though. He’d chopped off his trademark hair to a short, ruffled style, and his angular face sported a day’s worth of stubble. He looked younger, healthier, and sadder than the first time we met, but there was also confidence in the set of his mouth. His steel blue eyes were no longer shadowed with regret, but they had been tempered by grief that was no longer fresh.

In the banked fire of his gaze, I saw a spark of interest flare as he scrutinized me much more freely than I allowed myself. My skin flushed as he traced the contours of my body with those haunted blue eyes as he asked distractedly, “Are you staying in her cabin? She didn’t mention it being occupied the last time I spoke to her.”

“Yeah, she didn’t mention you to me, either,” I replied, almost concealing my bitterness. “I only found out about this place yesterday. I’m supposed to be on something called a ‘vacation,’” I explained, using my bunny fingers to quote the word.

The shallow dimples that wreathed his lips deepened with his smile, and his voice was teasing when he replied, “Ah, the old forced vacation routine. What you really mean is that you’ve either gotten sloppy or gone crazy, so you’re being sidelined until further notice.” He paused to scratch between Rosa’s ears before adding honestly, “Me, too. For close to a year now.”

Since the day of Stark’s funeral, I would bet money. That was the last time there had been any reliable sighting of the polarizing soldier, no matter how many times Ashley and Brit had claimed to have the scoop. That was the same day humanity had lost not just one hero, but two. Iron Man gave his life to save us, but we lost Captain America, too. Steve Rogers had followed his heart back to his true love, and had lived the rest of his life for himself. I don’t blame him one bit, but it still hurt to be the one left behind. The world had lost their fiercest Avengers, but Barnes had lost his only friend. Again.

The moment between us grew and swelled with unspoken emotions and memories until Rosa whined in her throat, glancing anxiously at each of us. I shook off my musings and moved back into shallower water. “So, I guess that makes us neighbors,” I announced, my nerves making me breathless. “My name is—”

“Taylor. Agent Taylor,” he cut me off, finishing my unnecessary introduction. “I’ve forgotten more than I remember of my life, but you? I definitely remember you.”

A wave of heat washed over me and settled low in my belly. Was he flirting with me, or was that a veiled threat? Was it twisted that both options turned me on? “Actually, it’s just Taylor now. I don’t know who pays my salary these days, much less what my title would be, but I know I’m not an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore.”

He nodded in solidarity with me before scooping a tree branch from the ground and tossing it for Rosa to fetch. As she chased after it into the woods, he replied, “It’s not easy being a soldier when you don’t know who you’re fighting for.”

His words hit a little too close to home for my liking, so I took the return of Rosa as my way out. “Well, I guess now that Rosa has found her way back home, I’ll be heading back to mine.”

I wasn’t sure what to do or say next, so I just turned on my heel and headed back to the tree line. I don’t know what it was about him that turned me into an awkward teenager, but I felt unaccountably nervous and excited in a way that I haven’t experienced in _years_. Hell, probably since the day I had met him for the first and only time. I had been just as weird and abrupt around him then, too.

Rosa howled her displeasure behind me, and I turned around only to find Barnes right behind me and all up in my personal space. An unladylike curse slipped from my lips and I jumped back in surprise. “Holy shit, you move fast!”

He held his hands palms up and took a giant step away from me. “I’m sorry about that. I’m still a bit rusty on my people skills. I shouldn’t have rushed you like that. I would never hurt you, Taylor,” he assured me with calm sincerity that soothed my fight response.

It was only when his eyes glanced down at my hands that I realized they were wrapped around my gun. It was aimed directly at his heart, and my finger kissed the trigger.


	7. Chapter 7

I stared at myself in shock. I didn’t even remember reaching for it.

My hands began to shake as the adrenaline crashed and burned through my veins, and tears inexplicably began to sting at my eyes, but I could not lower the gun as I got lost in flashbacks of the last time I’d been in this situation. Rosa pawed at my leg and headbutted me, but I was too far gone in my mind to pay attention. She finally leaned the entirety of her impressive bulk against me before she was able to secure my notice. I staggered under her weight, and it forced me to lower the weapon to regain my balance.

I hastily holstered my gun and turned my back on him to wipe away the pesky moisture leaking from my eyes. I used Rosie as an excuse not to face him, but I also didn’t want to cause her distress. “Sorry, Rosa. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Without turning around to face him, I said louder, “I’m sorry, Barnes. I know you aren’t a threat to me. I was just…startled.”

He took measured footsteps closer to me, taking care to crunch leaves and sticks beneath his bare feet so I could hear him coming, but I still couldn’t bring myself to face him. I’d nearly shot him through the heart just for startling me, and that was not okay. That was not okay at all.

Hence, the reason I was here in the first place. The last time someone had snuck up on me, I’d shot first before asking questions. It was the very informant that I had paid to gather intel on the movements of Doctor Stephen Strange on Fury’s orders. The quiet little guy had grabbed my shoulder from behind without announcing himself, and I’d whirled around and shot him. Thankfully, he was just as fast as I was, and he managed to jerk away. The bullet had struck him through his right shoulder instead of his heart. I’d nearly killed my own informant, and now, I’d nearly killed _him_.

“If it makes you feel better, you can’t really hurt me,” he confided honestly and factually. “Even if you’d pulled the trigger, I would have recovered. Getting shot hurts like hell for about three days before the serum repairs me, but it doesn’t kill me. You’re not going to hurt me, either.”

The stupid tears just kept leaking out of me, but Rosa did her best to lick them away with her kisses. I laughed shakily and finally chanced looking his way. He stood a few feet away from me, himself looking just as awkward as I felt, but I could see the genuine concern in his expression. I drew up to my full height once more since Rosa seemed to be appeased by my apology, and I forced myself to meet his gaze.

“Last time I pulled a gun on someone that startled me, I shot him,” I confessed softly. “He was my inside guy on my last assignment—a well-paid informant—and I nearly killed him because he spooked me. Like you just did. That’s the real reason why I’m here, Mr. Barnes. I’ve been both sloppy and crazy for a while now, and it has finally caught up with me. I’m a liability in the field; I’m a danger to others and to myself.”

He searched my face for a long moment before he replied simply, “You’re not a danger to me, Taylor. You’re safe here in every way, I’ll make sure of it.”

I believed him, and it made me weak and vulnerable, and I hated it. I wanted to touch him, but I was afraid of what I would do if he let me. It had been so long since the last time I’d touched another for pleasure that I couldn’t remember how it felt. The surge of aching desire that welled up inside me for him stole my breath and the last of my sanity. I needed to get away from him before I did something even worse. I’d already made too many bad decisions in the past year; it would be far better to retreat now with what shred of dignity I had remaining.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes, for being so understanding, and again, I am so sorry about that. I think the best thing I could do right now is go back to my cabin and let you get on with your day,” I stated firmly, my flight reflex taking wing.

“James. Call me James. You’re welcome to stay as long you like,” he countered me swiftly. He looked almost embarrassed by his eagerness, but he pressed on. “I mean, we are neighbors now, and neighbors visit each other and talk, right?” His tone conveyed an actual question, as if he were only making an educated guess instead of using past experience.

My desire to flee and hide overrode the instinct to take him up on the offer, but I still managed to salvage the situation. With a hesitant smile, I agreed, “Yes, they do. I’d like that, but I think I need to pull my shit together right now before that happens,” I explained bluntly. “Can I take a rain check, James?”

His stoic expression melted into one of obvious relief, and he even ruffled his shorter hair with his Vibranium hand. “Yeah, absolutely. I’d like that, too, but I really think you should take Rosa back with you. Not only is she more familiar with that cabin, but she’s trained to help you get your shit together. She’s helped me more than I can explain over the past year.”

Rosa looked up at me with pleading doggy eyes and cried pitifully as she pawed at my jeans. “What do you mean that she’s trained?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

“Rosa isn’t just Maria’s pet. She’s a certified service dog for those with severe PTSD,” he replied, reeling me in with his intensity. He held my gaze captive as he added softly, “For people like you and me.”


	8. Chapter 8

In the end, I found myself back at my temporary home with a happy dog in tow. After I gracelessly relented on taking her back with me, we’d agreed to meet at my place tomorrow night for dinner. My stomach fluttered up my throat the entire hike back to my cabin as I replayed our interaction over and over in my head, skipping the parts where I nearly shot him and had a breakdown. The rest of it was surprisingly…flirty. How could I have forgotten what it felt like to be attracted to someone so intensely? Every nerve ending in my body was sparking and clamoring for attention, and they wanted it from _him_.

By the time we made it back to the cabin, the sun was high in the pale blue sky and the cool wind had calmed to a temperate breeze. It was shaping up to be a beautiful spring day, and I paused on the threshold to admire the view. I buried my fingers between Rosa’s ears, and she contentedly rested her blocky head against my thigh as we both gazed out on the gently lapping water of the lake. A desperate desire for simple happiness gripped me, and I resolved myself to making it happen. After breathing deep of the crisp air, I released it slowly, consciously forcing myself to let go of the past and live in the moment.

So, that’s what I did.

Rosa literally dogged my heels as I went around the interior of the cabin opening curtains and windows until the house was full of sunshine, fresh air, and birdsong. I felt energized and _human_ and I liked it. What I didn’t like was the layer of dust I could see coating the surfaces of the cabin. Though the necessities such as food and drink had been new, the rest of the cabin had felt lonely as if it hadn’t been occupied in some time. I could fix that with no problem.

I found everything I needed to give the cabin a thorough cleaning in the utility closet located in the kitchen that housed the stacked washer and dryer combo. I organized my supplies by job and room before I headed to the sound system. I glanced down at my canine shadow and said, “I’m going to play my music pretty loud and do some therapy cleaning. Are you in or are you out? Because it’s not going to be both until I’m done.”

Rosa woofed and trotted over to the front door in answer. I swung the door wide for her, but I left it open even after she bounded outside to chase an unfortunate butterfly. “Don’t go past the tree line and stay out of the lake!” I called after her like an idiot.

Surprisingly, like a genius, she barked twice in acknowledgement before she was seized with a bolt of frantic energy that I’d heard called “the zoomies.” I left her to her hysterical antics and returned to my mission. I paused to put a new record on the turntable—Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ _Damn the Torpedoes_ —and I began to clean. I started in the kitchen, armed with cleaner and cloths, and I sang along as Tom Petty crooned, _“Somewhere, somehow, somebody must have kicked you around some / Tell me why you wanna lay there and revel in your abandon…”_

Why, indeed?

By the time I’d finished the kitchen, I was completely in the zone. It wasn’t that I enjoyed cleaning; far from it. I hated cleaning, but I craved the results more. There was also a type of static that filled my mind and drowned out the memories as I performed the routine, boring chores of scrubbing, sweeping, and dusting. I wouldn’t call cleaning fun, but it was as close to Zen as I was ever going to get.

It was important to me to have order and cleanliness surrounding me in my home base, because I usually had neither when on a mission. My obsessive need for control in my own home had been sorely tested over the past year since my mother’s return from The Snap, and it had been the source of much of our arguing and crying. I’d lived alone the majority of my adult life, and I was not adjusting well to her constant presence under a shared roof. No matter how much I loved her and was ecstatic that she was back, I couldn’t bear having her near me. I had nowhere to be alone, no secret place to break down and heal, and every time I laid eyes on her, I wanted to cry for all the wrong reasons.

I worked steadily through each room, absently rearranging the books and music by genre, author or artist, and publication date in chronological order on my way. When the album came to a stop, I switched it out for some Ray Charles to get me through to the end. Every once in a while, I paused to peek out the front door to check on Rosa, but she gave me no cause to worry. It hadn’t taken her long to wear herself out, and she’d been conked out in a sunbeam on the front porch ever since. Surprisingly, her presence alone was enough to bring a measure of peace as I went back to work.


	9. Chapter 9

When the record stopped playing at the finale of the last song, the cabin felt a lot more like home. I took the liberty of rearranging things to my taste and comfort level, including going through all the clothes that had been left by previous occupants. I recognized most of the clothing as Maria’s, which was lucky considering we were similarly sized, and I selected the best pieces to incorporate into my scant wardrobe. Her underwear, though, I placed firmly in a storage bag along with the rejects. I’d done a lot of things that I was not proud of over the course of my life, but I’ve never worn someone else’s underwear, and I was not about to start now.

Curiously, I came across some items of men’s clothing, too. Mostly it was just lounging wear, but there were a few pairs of jeans, several tee shirts, and socks aplenty. I couldn’t help but wonder who had worn them, and if they were _his_. He’d seemed very familiar with my boss and her private life, more than I’ve ever been, so it was entirely possible that these clothes belonged to Barnes. I had to consider that they’d been more than neighbors over the past year that he’d been here. To my knowledge, they were both unattached, attractive and single, so why wouldn’t they have hooked up? Hell, I’d only met him for the second time ever today, and I was ready to climb him like a tree. There was no way that my boss would have resisted the temptation to bed the Winter Soldier.

Mood thoroughly ruined, I put the finishing touches on the bathroom before calling Rosa inside for her own cleaning. I gave her a quickie bath, mopped up the mess, and sent her off to dry in front of the dark fireplace. I took my time going from room to room, admiring the fruits of my labor, until I landed in the kitchen where the refrigerator was calling my name. While I warmed up the leftover pasta, I filled Rosa’s food dish to the brim and hoped it was the right amount.

I ran out of things to do at dusk. There was nothing else to clean or any other task to perform save one: clean myself. Rosa was passed out cold in front of the reignited fireplace, her sleep so deep that I knew she would be out for a while. Now would be the perfect opportunity to try out the sumptuous bathtub. With that goal in mind, I shut and alarmed the door before following it up by closing all the windows and drapes, stopping by the sound system to switch to a CD of Alicia Keys on my way.

Since there was no window in the small bedroom, that left only one to secure the house for the night. The window in the bathroom was a sizeable one that was centered perfectly behind the tub to provide a view from both sides of the glass. I felt the cool rush of an early spring breeze filtering through the opened window, and I shivered as I imagined it kissing wet, heated skin. I ignored my ingrained instinct to barricade and secure my safety and left it open as I prepared for a leisurely bath.

I turned on the faucets in the tub as high as they would go, and the massive tub began to fill with steaming water. I eschewed the selection of bubbles, salts, and bombs and instead chose a bottle labeled as rose and pomegranate bath oil. It smelled divine in the bottle, but once it hit the steaming water, it bloomed and seduced me. When the bath was ready for me, I lit several candles nearby before turning off the lights, and the bathroom was shrouded in flickering shadows.

Even though I rationally knew that there was no one around for miles to see me naked, I still hesitated before I stripped off my clothes and submerged myself into the waiting bliss. I nearly cried like a baby as the tub received me into its hot, silken embrace. The heat loosened my strained muscles and sore joints, and the water buoyed my tired flesh. I braced my arms along the rim of the tub and molded myself to its contours in recline.

The caress of crisp lake air against my wet shoulders and arms was divine in contrast to the heat that radiated from my body beneath the water. I closed my eyes and floated in pure decadence. The only sounds I heard were the cries of migrating birds and the soft strains of music, and they lulled me into full relaxation. My mind unspooled from its iron shackles, and it raced straight for my new neighbor.

James Barnes was a mystery, even with the extensive file we’d managed to build on him. Even with my clearance level, I had never seen anything in the file that compared the real thing, though. I couldn’t get the image of him shirtless out of my head, and I hummed in muted appreciation at the memory of his deep Adonis belt that had disappeared beneath his pajama pants. I cursed myself for not giving in to the temptation to check out what was below his waistband, but there was always tomorrow.

It took no effort on my part to bring the spark of desire to life inside me as I imagined how it would feel to be touched by him. My breasts bobbed above the water, and my nipples recoiled from the kiss of crisp night air, but the ache of their tightening only encouraged my fingers to touch, pinch, and roll them. With my eyes closed, it was easy to imagine it was his fingers tormenting my breasts and sliding along my skin on the glide of scented oil heading below the water.

My breaths were coming faster as I spread my knees as wide as they could go for easy access to the throbbing center of my pent-up need. My fingers were his fingers as I teased my clit and dipped two fingers inside me to alleviate the ache of emptiness, but it only frustrated me more. I pictured him pinning me to the bed with his cock as I rubbed my clit furiously, and I came with a muffled cry while I imagined him spilling himself at the very end of me.

When I stopped twitching from aftershocks and my heartrate slowed down, I laughed for the pure joy of it. I quickly bathed myself in the rapidly cooling water and released the drain before standing to my feet. While I was at it, I snagged a fresh razor and shaving cream and went over all the spots that need it. Thankfully, I had a standing appointment with a reputable bikini waxer in NYC, so there was no need for a touch-up down there.

After finally wrapping my towel around my middle, I paused at the open window to stare out into the darkness. James Barnes was the only other person for miles around here, and he had promised I would be safe. Even though I believed him, I still regretfully closed and latched the window before pulling the drapes. The fantasy was nice while it lasted, but reality always found a way to fuck it all up. I was too well-trained to leave a welcome mat out for trouble, because it would inevitably take me up on the offer.

After I brushed my teeth and changed into pajamas, I finally allowed myself to experience the memory foam mattress and luxury sheets of the king-sized bed. Just as I began to drift off to sleep, Rosa nudged my elbow and whined. I cracked my eyes in the darkness of the room and asked with annoyance, “What? What do you want, Rosa?”

She placed one paw on the bed and whined again. I huffed in annoyance, but relented quickly to her, “Fine, you can sleep up here with me, but you need to stay on your side.”

Rosa scrambled up on the bed next to me, but for the first time, she ignored my commands. I rolled over to turn my back to her, but she didn’t let that stop her from flopping down next to me and resting her wide head on the pillow next to mine. In no time, I grew warm and sleepy, and I fell into a deep slumber with doggy breath ghosting across my neck.


	10. Bonus Chapter: Bucky Sees It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Again, if you are familiar with some of my work, you will recognize the addition of a "bonus" chapter from the POV of the male character. Here's a little sneak peak inside the fractured mind of the Winter Soldier.**

It was not my intention to spy on her, I swear it.

I only meant to check on her and make sure she was safe, but it wasn’t her physical well-being that concerned me. I didn’t doubt that she could navigate the terrain safely; I’d heard enough about her from both Okoye in Wakanda and Maria Hill in the U.S. to appreciate her skill level. It was her emotional health I was worried about, and that was what drove me to hastily get dressed and follow her.

My decision had nothing to do with the fact that her lips were lush and full, or that I desperately wanted to taste them. I didn’t trail her through the woods back to her cabin just because her sweater molded perfectly to her gorgeous breasts and her jeans cupped her tempting ass. I didn’t take cover, hidden from sight in the woods surrounding her cabin, because she was the first person to rouse my lust in more years than I cared to think about. That wasn’t what made me do it.

I did it because I recognized the wounded soldier behind her eyes. I’d seen it reflected back at me from my own mirror for the past year, and I understood all too well the reason why she was here. She was approaching her breaking point, and she was too dangerous to be allowed among the general public. She’d been removed for the safety of everyone, but mostly for herself. The only difference between us was that I had come here willingly, but she had apparently not.

I stayed hidden in the woods, following her movements as she began throwing open the windows and doors. When she banished Rosa from the cabin, I worried that the nurturing beast would catch my scent and out me, but she was thankfully too busy chasing a butterfly to care. I heard the faint sounds of a rock album drift to my ears, and I could catch glimpses of her through the windows as she moved busily around the small house. From time to time, I even caught traces of her own voice singing along to the words.

She seemed to be doing just fine, almost happy, so there was no need for me to continue monitoring her, but yet I stayed. I found her endlessly fascinating. She moved with precision and purpose, never second guessing herself as she systematically worked her way through her new home until it met her standards. Even Rosa was handled with efficiency and the expectation of obedience, but there was clear affection and camaraderie between them. Rosa was the perfect companion for her, just like she had been for me.

When the sun set and the shadows lengthened, I promised myself I would leave as soon as she locked herself in for the night. I followed her progress as she began closing the doors, windows, and curtains until there was only one left standing open. My dark clothes ensured I was invisible in the deepening shadows surrounding the cabin as I crept closer to the bathroom window. I only wanted one last glimpse of her before returning home to ensure she was safe. That was all, I swear it.

But then, she turned on the water in the bathtub. I fooled myself into believing that she would shut the window first before taking her bath, but I was wrong. The tantalizing scent of blooming roses and ripe pomegranate teased my nose as she arranged her towels and soaps within easy reach, and she meticulously relocated and lit candles in strategic locations ringing the bathroom.

When she flipped off the remaining lights, it took me precious seconds to adjust my vision to the candlelit view of Taylor pulling her shirt off over her head. I inhaled sharply as her jeans soon followed, and I was powerless to look away as her bra and panties joined the rest of her clothes in a nearby hamper.

Her skin glowed with health and vitality, and my hands clenched reflexively at the need to touch it. I forgot all about my noble reasons for being there without permission and I watched her unabashedly and without shame. She was beautiful, all steel muscle wrapped in feminine curves, and she exuded strength and determination from her very pores. Everything about her appealed to the shattered and mended remnants of my life, but I wasn’t so sure if that was a good thing. I still had trouble switching between the Soldier and the man sometimes.

All of me thought she was fucking _hot_. From her pinned-up hair to her unpainted toenails, she was literally a wet dream as her nude body submerged itself out of my sight. I could still see the shadowy outline of her curves beneath the dark waters, and I was mesmerized by the hide-and-seek of her breasts as she floated in the fragrant, hot water. Faintly, I could hear the gentle lap of the bath water as she moved, and I even heard her sigh in bliss.

When she began touching herself, her moan drowned out mine. I readjusted my painfully swollen cock to a more comfortable position and watched greedily as one hand disappeared beneath the water. Normally, it was easy to ignore my unruly cock; I’d had years to contend with the unfortunate side effects of the serum. The combination of enhanced testosterone and adrenaline production, along with whatever else Hydra had pumped into me, had ensured that the damn thing was always ready along with the rest of me. Hearing her fast breaths and watching her breasts move in time with her busy fingers made me want to ease the throbbing ache of it between her thighs.

I resisted the temptation to join her in orgasmic bliss, but just barely. It was bad enough that I’d witnessed a private moment without her knowledge; I would not compound that wrong further by finding my own release at her expense. My spark of morality didn’t prevent me from watching her to the very last second, though. She finished bathing herself before she stood and began shaving her legs. Each time she raised her foot to brace on the rim of the tub, I caught a glimpse of her pussy that made me press my Vibranium palm against my unyielding erection. Each surge of lust that she inspired in me threatened to activate the serum in my veins, but I still didn’t walk away. The Soldier wanted her, too, and that could be a very bad thing for both of us.

When she finally completed her ablutions, she reached for the window and peered outside in my direction. I froze in place, pinned beneath her unknowing stare for a long moment before she closed the window. I heard the lock click into place and then the drapes were drawn to block me out. It was time for me to leave.

I checked the perimeter one last time before I headed due east back to my cabin. Even though I knew Taylor’s reputation and ability to take care of herself, I still felt compelled to protect her. Every step I took toward my cabin pulled and tugged at me to go back, but I refused. I would wait and return at the invited time like a normal person; I would not hide in the woods and keep watch all night like the Soldier.

I’d made good progress over the past year learning how to move forward with the help of Maria Hill and weekly discussions with a specialized therapist. After the defeat of Thanos and his army, there had been nothing left for the Soldier to do. The Winter Soldier didn’t know how to handle the grief of losing his best friend again. Steve had found me, rescued me, and hidden me from the world in order to save me, but he had abandoned me in the end. By choice. He left me alone to face an uncertain future in a world where I was no longer a soldier, but not really a man.

I still wrestled at times between my programming and my autonomy, but I was getting better at it every day. Rosa had gone a long way toward teaching me how to be human again. She’d reminded me how to smile and laugh and provided me comfort through her closeness. Between the dog and the specialist Maria had found, I was finally starting to feel like a real life may be possible for me. A life where I could be more than just a fighter; I could be a man, too.

My cabin felt lonely for the first time ever. It was too quiet, too peaceful, and it made my skin itch. I tried to ignore my angry cock, determined not to give in to the depraved thoughts filling my head about its use in conjunction to her body, but the images wouldn’t stop. I stepped inside my small shower stall and turned the water on cold, hoping that the shock of it would temper the rising lust inside me, but it only continued to grow stronger.

Crazed fantasies filled my mind’s eye, and I was powerless to resist their siren song. My hand lingered on the angry column of flesh between my thighs as I imagined fucking her from behind with my metal hand wrapped around her hair. Against my will, I began to stroke myself harder and faster as I fantasized about her lips stretched taut around me as I plunged deeper into her throat, and I could feel the rush of the serum ignite to drive me closer to the brink. I thought about pinning her to the bed with my cock, her legs clenched tight around my waist and her hands held captive with mine, as I fucked her hard and deep. I came with a ragged shout, and my patched mind and body were finally on the same page once more.


	11. Chapter 11

My nerves returned in full force by the time I expected James Barnes to stroll out of the woods for our dinner date. I wasn’t sure what to wear or what to make, and poor Rosa spent most of the day watching me try on clothes and search through cookbooks on the shelf. I finally settled on something easy and casual on both fronts. I selected a pair of form-fitting black leggings and topped it with an oversized white dress shirt unbuttoned enough to see the lacy trim of a black camisole. Brazenly, I purposely left off wearing a bra, but the shirt was billowy enough that it was difficult to tell. As for dinner, I decided I couldn’t go wrong with some steak and potatoes.

When Rosa lifted her head and woofed at the door, I knew he had arrived. On my way to open it for him, I glanced around the interior to make sure everything was in order. I’d moved some of the candles into the big room and set them to glowing alongside the gas fireplace, and the sound system was softly playing Marvin Gaye's _What's Going On_ in the background. I was as ready as I could be for company.

My breath left my lungs in a rush when I opened the door and saw him standing there. He was dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans that left little to the imagination topped with a slate blue button-down shirt that illuminated his eyes. His hair was ruffled and tousled from the cool breeze outside, and his facial hair was darker and thicker than the day before. He was delicious from top to bottom, and I despaired getting through dinner without jumping him. My core clenched as he passed me a bottle of wine so he could greet Rosa’s enthusiasm without injury.

“Okay, Rosa, calm down. I came here to see her, too,” he admonished her lightly while holding my gaze with a smile. God, I could eat him with a _spoon_.

I felt like an unpracticed virgin on her very first date. I wasn’t sure what to say or do to get the results I wanted, so I babbled like an idiot instead. “I’m glad you came for me,” I blurted before thinking about the connotations. “I mean, I’m happy that you’re coming here. Nope, that sounds even worse. Would you like to come inside?” I closed my lips firmly before any more damage was done to the moment, and my face flamed bright red as I vividly remembered some of my dreams about him last night.

It didn’t help that he clearly caught both meanings, too, if his raised eyebrow and quirked lips were any indication. “It would be my pleasure, Miss Taylor,” he replied with a wide grin, winking at me rakishly.

His teasing startled a laugh from me, and we both chuckled as the tension between us broke. I ushered him and the dog inside, asking him politely to remove his shoes before coming in. He didn’t hesitate to unlace his boots and place them by the door. He even peeled his socks off and wiggled his bare toes on the hardwood floor. He glanced at my own bare feet and remarked seriously, “I want us to be on equal footing.”

I groaned at his awkward attempt at humor and he followed me to the kitchen with Rosa trailing close behind. We chatted about superficial topics such as the weather and the spring flowers beginning to bloom in the area while he opened the bottle of wine and I fetched the glasses. It surprised me how easy it was to talk to him, and I found myself relaxing in his presence more and more.

I showed him the steaks I had marinating and the twice baked potatoes already in the oven, and he offered to cook the steaks on the charcoal grill outside. I glanced at him dubiously, but he assured me I wouldn’t be sorry. “I’ve had a lot of time to learn how to feed myself over the past few years. There weren’t exactly any restaurants on the plains of Wakanda, so I’ve become proficient in the ancient art of roasting meat.”

Just like that, we were cooking dinner together. I split my time between the kitchen, pulling the potatoes from the oven and replacing them with frozen dinner rolls, and the front porch where Rosa supervised the lighting of the charcoals. James and I talked about cooking, movies, and music, and we argued about whether or not The Beatles deserved the hype. He was surprisingly funny and witty, and he made me laugh more than a few times as he cooked our steaks. Rosa was in doggy heaven looking between us with equal adoration as if we were her clueless puppies, and it didn’t hurt that she got her own unseasoned steak, too.

As promised, the steaks were cooked perfectly and melted in my mouth as we ate together. We sat opposite each other at the small table situated between the kitchen and living room, and we started sharing more personal information. He told me a little bit about his life pre-Thanos, and I could understand why he would want to hide from the world for a while. I opened up with him, too, telling him about my mom and the complicated feelings of joy and grief that comprised our relationship.

We washed the dishes together, working together as a flawless team to clean up and put the leftovers away, and our bodies brushed against each other at every turn. When we were done, I carried our wine glasses to the couch to continue our conversation, and he followed me willingly. I didn’t want him to leave yet; I wanted to know more about him. He fascinated and intrigued me. He made me feel alive for the first time since The Snap, and I didn’t want to lose that so soon.

The couch was not big out of necessity. After he settled into his corner with his wine glass, I couldn’t arrange myself next to him without touching him. He watched me try with increasing amusement, and he made no attempt help my awkwardness. I finally settled next to him with my knees pulled up to my chest, but that still left my toes wedged against his thigh. Rosa was collapsed on the floor between us and the fire, and her chest rose and fell in peaceful slumber.

The mood between us grew thick with tension once more. He was so close that I could smell the hint of sandalwood in his soap, and my nipples tightened in response. “So,” I broke the silence nervously, “What do we do we now?”

He studied me with unnerving intensity before he replied easily, “We can do whatever you want to do. We can talk, listen to music, watch a movie, or we can do nothing at all. It’s up to you.”

“What if I want to kiss you?” my mouth asked without talking to my brain first.

I held my breath as I waited for his answer, and I released it when his pupils dilated and he rasped, “We can definitely do that.”

As if my word was all he’d waited for, he took control of my body with effortless strength. He settled me astride his muscled thighs, and I braced my hands on his shoulders as he shifted my hips until they were aligned with his. We were face-to-face, our eyes locked and rapid breaths mingling, and we teetered on the precipice of something new and frightening. I knew in that moment that if he kissed me, I would not want him to stop.

He seemed to have the same reservations, because he reached up to cup my jaw in his right hand. His thumb brushed across my cheekbone in a gentle caress as he searched my gaze. “I don’t know if this is a good idea, but I do know that I want you,” he confessed raggedly, his hard length between my thighs giving testimony to his words.

“Oh, it’s a terrible idea,” I assured him, licking my lips. “Let’s do it anyway.”

He pulled me down to him by his grip on my chin, and our mouths clashed with lips and teeth and tongue. I drowned in his taste and reveled in the texture of his body beneath mine, and I wanted more. I needed to feel his hands on my skin before I lost what was left of my mind.

I broke away from his drugging kiss to lean my forehead against his and found the courage to ask for what I needed. “Touch me. Please…just touch me, James.”

He hesitated only briefly before his Vibranium fingers worked their way beneath my camisole to stroke the sensitive skin beneath my breast, and I shivered with longing. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he breathed between my parted lips. “I don’t always realize my strength or trust the serum in my veins.”

I breached the short space between our lips and kissed him slowly and thoroughly. “You won’t hurt me,” I whispered confidently as I circled my hips against his hardness.

His chest rumbled dangerously and he growled, “Hold on tight. We’re going to need more room.”


	12. Chapter 12

He carried me to my bedroom with my arms around his neck and my legs hooked around his waist. My entire body was buzzing with electricity, and I couldn’t stop kissing him. I tasted his mouth, jaw, and neck until he dropped me on the king size bed with a bounce. I raised myself up on my elbows, and my dress shirt gaped open to reveal the hard points of my breasts as I looked up at him towering over me.

I couldn’t read his expression, but I could see his powerful chest expand and contract on fast breaths and I clearly saw the outline of his cock as it strained against his zipper. I bit my bottom lip nervously as he continued to stare down at me with dark, emotionless eyes. He did not look like the man who had flirted with me all night and made me laugh. He looked like a totally different stranger, and it both frightened me and made me wet.

“James?” I hesitantly called his name when he didn’t move.

It must have worked, because he snapped out of his fugue and moved. He kneeled on the bed, trapping my legs between his powerful thighs and lowered himself over me. His hands found mine and he slowly dragged them over my head until I was held captive beneath him. Our faces were a mere breath away, and I searched his gaze to see who would be looking back. I saw my James, but I saw the other, too.

“Don’t let me do anything you don’t want,” he rasped across my lips between wet kisses. “Call Rosa if I don’t stop.”

My stomach swooped with sick anticipation for anything he was willing to offer me. I trusted him instinctively, even as he held me bound and pinned with his body, and I wanted everything. “You won’t hurt me,” I repeated, willing him to believe it, too. “Just keep touching me.”

Like a match to gasoline, we ignited.

He released my hands to hold my face hostage for his bruising kiss. He overwhelmed me with his passion, and I had no choice but to let go and take it. His hands moved over every patch of bare skin available, and I felt the scrape of his beard along my neck as he licked and sucked a path down to my chest. I clawed at his stupid shirt, desperate to feel his skin on mine, but he would not be deterred. He reached between us to rip open my dress shirt, revealing the lace-trimmed black camisole beneath it. The material was made of thin, silky fabric that molded to my curves and left nothing to the imagination.

“Fuck, that’s beautiful,” he breathed reverently as he ran his palms up my ribs on the glide of the satin. He didn’t hesitate to fill his hands with my breasts, and he brushed each peaked nipple with his thumbs. “I’m not ripping this one, but it has to go quick.”

Instead of reaching for the hem of my camisole, I grasped both sides of his button-down and yanked it open. Buttons flew through the air, and I sighed in appreciation at seeing his bare chest once more. “Equal footing, remember?” I taunted him recklessly.

His chest rumbled in warning, but I was ready for it. The camisole ripped down the middle with a squeal of protest that drowned out my gasp of excitement, and he swooped in to capture a stiff nipple with his lips. He drew my breast deep into his hot, slick mouth and he suckled, nipped, and licked at it until I was bucking my hips for more. He was voracious in his quest to explore each one with both hands and mouth, and I could feel myself tightening below with impending orgasm from this alone.

My fingers buried themselves in his dark locks, and I held him to my breast as he pulled and drew on it as if to steal my very soul through its tip. Still, I needed more. “Clothes,” I gasped, tugging at his hair to get his attention. “Too many clothes.”

He released me jealously only to quickly and efficiently strip me of my torn tops, black leggings, and panties. He manhandled me effortlessly until I was stripped bare and laid out beneath him. My pulse raced with adrenaline that I’d only ever experienced in the field, and I brazenly opened my knees wide to show him how he was effecting me. “You next,” I reminded him, trailing my fingers down my stomach toward the wet, swollen tissues of my sex. 

He said something in Russian, his voice guttural and deep, but he obeyed my command by disrobing. The shirt came off easily, and I rewarded him by running my fingertips through the silken lips of my sex. His nostrils flared, more Russian escaped his throat, and his hands moved to his jeans to complete the ritual. When he was fully naked, my skin prickled with gooseflesh and cried out in thirst that only he could quench.

He was painfully beautiful to look at, and his black Vibranium arm only enhanced his appeal. He allowed me the time to look my fill, his expression once more stoic and removed. I took inventory of him from head to foot, and my mouth watered as I imagined tasting every inch of him. Living in the woods alone for the past year had done no harm to his chiseled, powerful physique, and I swallowed thickly when I saw that he was just as powerful below his waist. His cock was bigger than expected, making me clench my pussy compulsively, and the thick head dripped with pearls of excitement. I had a moment’s hesitation about my ability to handle it, but I snuffed it just as quickly.

I held my left hand out to him in supplication and whispered, “I need you.”

A fine tremor shook his body and he climbed over top of me once more. I opened my arms and my legs for him eagerly, inviting him to smother me with his weight. He kissed me deeply, but briefly, before making his way to my ear. “I can’t get you pregnant and I carry no disease,” he breathed as his steely length slid along my lips to bump my clit over and over again.

“Then what are you waiting for?” I demanded. Even with him pressed against me from head to foot, it was still not enough. I needed more.

He gave it to me. With a twist of his hips, the head of his cock found my opening and he pushed inside me with one firm thrust. I cried out in shock as his width crowded the walls of my sex and his length impaled me beyond comfort, but still he pushed deeper. James cursed low and filthy in his throat, his eyes shut tightly in concentration, and I grew restless for him to move. “James, please,” I begged him, my pussy crying out for friction. “Move!”

He hissed as his thick length retreated, and he groaned as he forced his way back in. Each slow, measured stroke of his cock split me open again and again, and I kept chanting, _“Yes, Yes, Yes!”_ and _“More, more, more!”_ as he powered into me faster and harder, and still it wasn’t enough.

He fisted my hair at the scalp in his Vibranium hand and tugged back until my throat was exposed to him. A hissed stream of Russian poured from his lips as he ground himself to the very end of me, and he warned darkly, “I don’t take commands anymore, Котик. You’ll ask me nicely and take what you’re given.” His eyes were hard and flat, and I saw very little of my James in their darkened depths.

As if to prove his point, he withdrew all the way from my body and left me empty and bereft. “Please!” I cried out, digging my fingernails into the skin of his back, crazed at the thought of not touching him again. Still, he held me bound by my hair as he licked and sucked the slope of my shoulder.

“Please what?” he taunted me by sliding his length back and forth across my sensitive clit. “What do you want from me, Котик?”

I couldn’t say it, couldn’t give words to the need roiling inside me, so I only gasped, “Please just fuck me, James. I need you.”


	13. Bonus Chapter: The Winter Soldier Takes All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Another Bonus Chapter from Bucky's POV. Enjoy.**
> 
> ***Note to my Russian-speaking readers: Please feel free to correct me on the one word I was brave enough to translate into your language. My goal was a term of endearment meaning "kitten". If I have used it wrong or there is a better way to spell it, please let me know!***

Not as much as I needed her.

I released her and raised up to my knees to gaze down at her debauched beauty. Her hair was a tangle around her flushed face and her delicate skin showed signs of my marking that appealed far too much to me. Her breasts begged me to bite them and her nipples invited me to drink, but it was her hot, slick center that called to me most.

Without explanation, I flipped her to her stomach and grabbed her hips in my hands. I pulled her ass level with my angry cock, but I paused to admire the view first. I raised my left fingers to her weeping lips and I shuddered as I slid two fingers deep inside her velvet cunt. I could feel the heat of her against my oversensitive Vibranium skin, and her walls pulsed around them as she moved her hips against the intrusion. Her muffled moans and pleas for more drove me further and further to the brink of my control over the Soldier, and I did not want to lose control of that part of my nature. The Soldier no longer had a handler to give orders; there was only me left to deal with the consequences of losing control.

As my left fingers slid free from her body, my right ones fisted my cock and guided it to take its rightful place. One hard thrust had me buried so deep inside her that she wailed, but I gave her no time to adjust. She was too hot, too tight, too slick to resist the primal call of fucking her hard and fast. My fingertips fit perfectly along her hips, and I used my purchase to push and pull her against my cock until her cries turned into keening. Her cunt squeezed a hold of me, sucking me to the very end of her, and she came with wracking sobs. Even as her body wilted against the bed in exhaustion and tears, her pussy still pulsed and milked me with impossible temptation. 

Adrenaline pumps throughout my body opened wide, flooding my system with the rush of Hydra serum, and I took what I wanted. I gathered her in my arms and pulled her up until her back was plastered against my chest and her head lolled on my shoulder; her body was suspended from mine by only my arms and my cock. My metallic hand ran along the bumps of her ribs, across her breast, and over her throat where I caressed her jugular gently with the warm, Vibranium tips of my fingers. My right hand took the opposite path, skating down her abdomen until I encountered her slippery folds. I stroked her swollen clit with firm, measured pressure, and I growled in her ear, “Do you still want more, Котик?”

She was boneless in my grasp, and tears trickled from the corners of her closed eyes. Her body trembled and her chest heaved for breath, and I felt her swallow past the palm of my hand around her throat. In that moment, I didn’t know if I could stop myself if she said no. I prayed to a god I didn’t believe in that she would not make me find out.

“Yes,” she gasped, her breath stuttering out on an exhale. “I still need more. Please let me have more.”

I could feel her pulse pounding against my prosthetic fingertips, and I squeezed just enough to make her gasp, but still she was compliant in my embrace and I could feel her arousal coating our thighs. The last shred of my control snapped, and my hips quickly followed. I held her by her throat in one hand, my nose buried in the hair behind her ear, and I circled her clit mercilessly as I fucked her hard and fast. The heady cocktail of my altered DNA sparked to life, and the rush of savage testosterone gave me a Soldier’s power, but still I tempered its use on her vulnerable body.

She trusted me not to hurt her. She believed that I could control myself enough to fuck her brains out without injuring or killing her. Her clearance was high enough that she fully understood the depraved things I’d done under Hydra’s command, and still she’d invited me into her body without hesitation. I didn’t deserve this boon, didn’t deserve to even smell her hair, but I’d be damned if I was going to let her down or let her go.

Each thrust of my cock struck inside her like a hammer’s blow, and my fingers flew across her clit until she seized in my arms with a raw shout. Even as she convulsed and cried in my arms, I drove deep inside her until I came with a savage snarl that belonged to someone else. Each pulse of my come sent voltages of brutal ecstasy rebounding throughout my body, and I held her tight as I plowed to the very end of her for the last tsunami of pleasure to send me crashing back to earth.

When my adrenaline was spent at the conclusion of my release, the red haze of the serum began to fade and my cock deflated enough to allow gravity to hold sway once more. Carefully, I shifted her hips until my spent length escaped from her abused depths. She whimpered softly at its loss, and I felt the flood of her tears on my shoulder and the flood of our joining on my cock.

I gentled my hold on her body, and she was pliant and limp in my hold. Guilt swamped me as I carefully arranged us both until we lay on the bed together with her cradled against my chest. She still hadn’t said anything, and her eyes were still closed and leaking tears. My heart iced over with fear that I had pushed her too far, and I pressed a reverent kiss to her hair in apology.

“I’m sorry, Taylor,” I whispered in the silence of the cabin. “I thought I had a better handle on myself than that. What can I do? How can I fix this?”

Her shoulders shook and her tears intensified until I was truly frightened, but she blinked her eyes open and looked up at me. She reached up to scratch her nails lightly through the stubble on my jaw and said weepily, “Don’t you dare apologize for what we just did. I’m not crying because you hurt me; I’m crying because you gave me what I needed. We both needed this, James.”

Sweet relief made me lightheaded from being absolved of hurting the one person who trusted me most. I ran my hand comfortingly up and down her spine, grateful to the very core of me that I had not screwed up the first good thing to happen to me post-Thanos. I didn’t want to lose her so quickly.

“I thought you said that this was a terrible idea,” I reminded her seriously. “I know I was too rough on you. You’ll agree with me come tomorrow.”

Her body stretched languidly before she molded herself to me once more. “It’s still a terrible idea, but it feels good right now. And, I’ll be feeling the effects for days, but it’s nothing a soak in a hot tub couldn’t cure. I happen to have one big enough for both of us if you’re interested.”

As if on cue, my damned cock began filling with blood and stiffening against her soft stomach. “Are you asking me to stay, Taylor?”

She pressed a soft kiss to my chest where her cheek lay and whispered, “Will you stay with me tonight, James?”

I swallowed past the thick knot in my throat and answered, “As long as you’ll have me.”


	14. Chapter 14

For the next twelve hours, we talked and laughed, bathed and kissed, napped and fucked. Rosa joined us for much the time, but she obediently retreated when things turned intimate. We slept together in the same bed, but I was pretty sure that I was the only one actually sleeping. He never left my side, though, except to take Rosa out for her walk, and I selfishly held him close to appease the ravenous hunger I had for his touch. I couldn’t get enough of running my hands over his cut muscles and through his short hair, and he indulged my curiosity about his lifelike prosthetic. He was no longer hesitant to touch me with his smooth Vibranium hand; in fact, he found new and inventive ways to use his fingers to bring me pleasure.

One day quickly turned into three, and still we did not separate. We only left the cabin to take Rosa on short walks, and we spent the rest of our time together. There was no distraction of internet or cell phones, and we didn’t bother with movies or books. There was only me, him, and Rosa. There was music and food and fucking, but there was a lot unburdening of our souls, too. I found myself telling him things that I’d never revealed to another person, almost like a penitent in a confessional, but he was more selective in what he revealed of himself. There was something else going on inside of him, something that he tried to hide from me, but he wasn’t successful. I knew his secret; I saw him each time we came together.

I tried not to let it bother me that a stranger looked back at me when we had sex, and I tried not to feel guilty for craving his control. I knew that it wasn’t James feasting between my thighs and smacking my ass as he fucked me from behind, but I didn’t care. He met my unspoken, shameful need for loss of control without me having to ask for it, and he allowed me to be someone else, too. When our bodies came together in passion, I was no longer the paranoid compulsive control freak asshole with more lives than a cat; I was simply a woman in need. I knew it wasn’t James who did that for me. It was the Winter Soldier that ruled my body, but it was James that was stealing my heart.

On our forth day of isolation together, we ran out of dog food. Rosa was a big dog, and she had a very healthy appetite. The small stash of food I’d found in the cupboard was running dangerously low and our only options were to either hike back to his place or go to town to buy some. Irrationally, I didn’t want him to go back to his cabin, because I was afraid he wouldn’t come back with me, so I pushed for the excursion to civilization.

When we were dressed and presentable, we loaded Rosa into the back seat of the used car, and I conceded the keys to him since I had no idea where I was going. He had explained that there was a small tourist town about seven miles east where we could find a market for groceries and supplies, several small boutiques for clothing and antiques, and even a few locally-owned restaurants. He’d never actually tried any of them, he explained on the short drive to our destination; he’d only gone to town when absolutely necessary over the past year.

It hadn’t escaped my notice that he was dressed in a hooded sweatshirt with a non-descript baseball cap and dark sunglasses over his eyes. It finally occurred to me why my boss had offered the use of an off-the-books S.H.I.E.L.D. safe house to James Barnes. He was still a wanted Hydra assassin no matter how he came to be that way, and the world would remember that just as soon as they recovered from The Snap and would come looking for him. But if Barnes could effectively disappear long enough, the world might assume he’d perished in the Great Battle along with the other heroes who had lost their lives to save ours. Better a dead martyr than a living threat. This situation had Fury written all over it.

When we pulled up to the market and parked, James turned to look at me. I couldn’t stand not seeing his beautiful eyes, so I reached up to pluck his sunglasses off his face. Before he could speak, I beat him to it. “Do we need anything else from inside other than food for Rosa the Ravenous?” I asked him with humor quirking my lips. “Now’s the time to ask, because I’m going in and getting back out with exactly what I know we need.”

He smiled at me, and my stomach fluttered as my heart thudded. He was so fucking pretty that I lost my breath each time he looked at me that way. I forgot about the market, forgot about dog food, and I leaned in to press my lips against his. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth to run my tongue along the seam of his lips, and he met me with equal passion. James was an amazing kisser, and we’d spent hours over the past days just making out like horny teenagers. I couldn’t help myself; I’d been starved of intimate contact for so long that it felt prudent to take advantage of the feast before the next famine.

When I finally came up for air, he smiled against my lips and murmured, “Hurry up and get your sweet ass back here. Rosa and I will be waiting.” I gave him a farewell peck on his luscious lips and turned to Rosa who was waiting patiently for her own. I kissed her snout affectionately and ruffled her ears before exiting the car.

In keeping with the spirit of being innocuous, I dressed casually in yoga pants, hooded sweatshirt, sneakers, and a ballcap of my own with my hair pulled through the back. I didn’t bother with the sunglasses, though. It was a cool, overcast spring day and wearing sunglasses would make me more noticeable, not less.

Once inside the small market, I grabbed a cart and headed through the isles at a measured, steady clip while decisively placing items in my cart that I wanted to add to the impressive stash back at my cabin. There weren’t many people in the store at this time of day, and no one seemed to even notice me except for one other shopper. I offered the woman a fake smile that she did not return and went about the business of getting my shit and getting out.

I grabbed some fresh strawberries and melting chocolate, crisp Washington apples and caramel sauce, and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. In the pet aisle, I stared at the myriad options for food. Thankfully, most bags pictured the contents and I was able to locate the same brand as the cabin. Because I was sucker for her love, I also grabbed a selection of the best looking treats and toys on offer.

I paused at the end of the final aisle and studied the discreetly displayed “personal hygiene” products, and my eyes landed on an intriguing bottle of lubricant that made me all tingly inside at the thought of using it with _him_. The Soldier had been bold about exploring my ass with his fingers and tongue when we fucked, and the thought of him going further made my pussy throb and my breath catch.

Just as I plucked a bottle of the lubricant from the shelf, the same lady from before brushed past me and muttered loud enough for me hear, “You’re disgusting.”

The sheer malice behind her tone made the hairs along my nape stand up, and I had learned to never ignore that warning sign. I smelled a threat to me, and I would not let it pass unchallenged. “If you’re going to be brave enough to say that, you might as well go all out and tell me exactly what it is about me that disgusts you,” I said loud enough to stop her in her tracks.

Like a cornered, feral cat, she whirled around and hissed, “Where should I start?” Her lips were turned down in a permanent frown and she exuded rank superiority borne of a lifetime of entitlement. “Look at the way you’re dressed! It’s after lunchtime and you look as if you just rolled out of bed. From the looks of your cart, it seems like you plan on getting right back into it, too. You may as well add a pregnancy test while you’re at it and save another trip to the store. Do you even have a job? A family to tend? I doubt it. You’re probably here to spend my tax dollars on steaks and sex aids for you and your druggie boyfriend.” My eyebrows flew up in disbelief at the sheer gall of this stranger, and she snapped, “Oh, I saw you two practically humping each other in the parking lot with your pit bull in the back seat. You’re probably drug dealers with a dog like that.”

We were beginning to attract attention, but I was beyond caring at this point. All the rage, fear, and sorrow that I’d been bottling up for years began to bubble, and my fight instincts flared. My vision tunneled on her twisted, ugly face and I dared her to go even further. “Okay, you’ve just called me lazy, a slut, unemployed and on welfare, and a drug dealer’s girlfriend all without having ever met me or spoken to me before now. Why stop there? Might as well get it all off your chest.”

Her body quivered with outrage at being called out for her shit, but she did not back down. They never do. “You people are all alike,” she exploded as expected. “No one wants you here! You should all go back to where you came from!”

Shocked gasps rebounded throughout the small store as every patron stopped what they were doing to gawk at us. Several of them pulled out their phones, but I was too far gone to care. “There it is!” I crowed, giving her a golf clap. “Now we’re getting the heart of the matter. Your disgust of me has nothing to do with the clothes I’m wearing or the products I buy. Your problem is with this,” I announced, indicating my face. “It’s good to know that some American values haven’t changed even in the face of multiple alien invasions and near annihilation of the human race.”

The lady’s laughter was unhinged and warned of escalation. “Of course you believe all that bullshit they put on the news about some purple alien called Thanos. Where’s your proof he even existed? All we have is the word of a bunch of freaks in costumes on the government’s payroll telling us that’s what happened, but I don’t believe a word of it. The news media is no better than a Hollywood movie splashed across the screens. Only people like you believe a word coming from the fake news.”

Her words and her behavior was so bizarre that it was almost transcendent. I couldn’t believe the vile ignorance spewing from her rabid lips, and I wanted to end her existence. My hand instinctively reached for the gun I kept at my waist, but it was missing. For the first time in my memory, I’d left my weapons at home. I still had my mouth, though, and it could be just as lethal as any knife or gun.

“Bitch, I promise you that I am not the one to come at today. You need to learn to keep your mouth shut and mind your own fucking business, because eventually you will run into someone that won’t back down and slink away from your bullshit. I am the one, lady,” I gave her fair warning.

A middle-aged man stepped between us, his hands used as barriers to keep us physically separated. “Ladies, please! We don’t need this kind of scene in the middle of my store.” Turning to the spiteful bitch, he said politely, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you need to leave. This young lady was trying to shop like everyone else, and I won’t tolerate that kind of language or attitude in my place of business.”

The Karen exploded in outrage that she was the one being ejected instead of me, and this triggered her absolute meltdown. She screeched about “her rights” being violated, and she stubbornly refused to abandon her buggy as she insisted he couldn’t stop her from shopping. As the owner gently, but firmly, escorted her past me, she lunged. I saw it coming, but I let her put her hands on me with an eagerness that should have frightened me, but didn’t.

Her fingers curled like claws, she grabbed at my sweatshirt with a boldness that spoke of safety behind the shield of a man, and I gave her several seconds to enjoy the thrill of venting all her hate before I moved. Neatly, I sidestepped the well-meaning manager doing his best to contain her fury while the other shoppers only talked amongst themselves and videoed the altercation. Her eyes widened in panic as I wrapped my left hand in the fabric at her throat and lifted her up to her toes.

Her face turned red beneath the pressure of my hold against her neck, and she scrabbled with both hands at my iron grip. The manager was pleading with me not to hurt her, that it wasn’t worth going to jail over someone like her, but his words did not penetrate the red haze of fury clouding my vision. I didn’t care that we were causing a scene in front of witnesses with smartphones or that someone whispered that they had called the police. There was only me and her in this moment, and I had something to say her.

“It’s not my job to educate the ignorant, bitch, but for you I will make an exception,” I hissed, my fury rising. “While you have been living your normal, miserable life, I have spent the past ten years protecting it. It wasn’t just the Avengers and their powered allies fighting those wars and shooting down alien threats against our world. Humans of every flavor have fought and died alongside of them, people who were my friends, partners, and lovers. But guess what, lady? I was right there for every bit of it, too, and I survived it all despite the odds. That’s who you decided to fuck with today.”

The stunned silence of our audience was broken only by her choked whimpers, but I did not let her go, even when her face turned purple. Distantly, I heard the bell on the door chime, but I paid it no heed as I locked eyes with my enemy. I opened the Pandora’s box of my memories and experiences and let her read my history in the face that so repulsed and scared her. I let her understand that she was insignificant to me in every single way so that she would appreciate it when I let her live.

A soft, familiar whine cut through the haze of fury, and a solid weight at both my knees and my back told me that I was no longer alone. James’ gloved hand rested solidly on my shoulder, and his voice was a low rumble in my ear. “You need to let her go, Taylor. She is not the enemy. The police are on their way, and we don’t need to be here when they arrive.”

Rosa echoed his urgency at my feet, and the red haze receded enough for me to drop my hold on her. She immediately began sobbing and screaming for the police as she ran for the front door to find them. I finally glanced around and saw several people still recording me while others broke off to follow the hysterical Karen. I reached down to give Rosa a reassuring scratch before handing the bag of dog food to James and plucking up the lubricant for myself.

I turned to the distraught store owner, and fished a $100 bill from the small pocket on my yoga pants and thrust it at him. I squinted at his nametag before addressing him, “Mr. Singh, I’m taking these two things and leaving. This should more than cover it, and I want you to keep the rest for your inconvenience. Thanks for having my back.”

He glanced nervously at me, but he seemed familiar with both James and Rosa. He nodded his greetings to his familiar customer and replied quickly, “What’s right is right, and what that woman said was wrong. You are welcome to shop here anytime, miss. Thank you for your service to our world.”

I acknowledged his gratitude with an awkward tip of my chin, and we left the store and gawking shoppers behind us. We ignored the woman screaming hysterically into her cell phone at the 911 operator and loaded the dog and my purchases into the forgettable car and drove away mere seconds before the first police car turned into the parking lot. Both of us were uncomfortably silent as he drove us back to my cabin, and Rosa was even laying down with head between her paws in the backseat.

“I’ll be honest with you,” he broke the strained tension first. “I’m not sure which question I want answered more, so I will ask both of them. What happened in there, and what are your plans with that bottle of silicone lubricant?”

I couldn’t help it; I laughed. I released all the pent-up emotions roiling in my chest, and I just let them go. The relief of it made me giddy, and my blood rushed with the success of yet another survival. I was still alive, still mostly free, and I had a wicked sexy man at my side. I knew it wouldn’t last, knew it shouldn’t happen at all, but I still craved the broken soldier. Our time was growing shorter, especially after what had just happened back at the market, and I was determined to enjoy every second of him I had left.

I reached over to run my hand along his muscled arm and replied lightly, “The answer to your first question isn’t nearly as interesting as the second one, so I’ll make it brief. Karen decided she didn’t like the way I looked and picked a fight she couldn’t win. Me selecting the lubricant started it.”

His dark eyebrows winged up his forehead, but he didn’t push me for details. Apparently, he was more interested in the lube. “And what exactly are your plans for that lubricant, Котик?” he repeated his second question, his voice deepening with a familiar accent.

Gooseflesh erupted across my skin and my nipples pebbled inside my functional bra. “Well, I was just thinking that if we had some of this,” I indicated the luridly colored bottle that left nothing to the imagination about its purpose, “Our options would be unlimited.”

His foot pressed harder against the accelerator as we closed the distance to my cabin.


	15. Chapter 15

We made it back to the cabin in short order, and upon arrival, James was a man on a mission.

He grabbed the food and corralled Rosa and me into the cabin before arming the alarm system and pulling every curtain in the house closed. He left Rosa in the kitchen happily chowing down on her food and he grabbed my hand to drag me into the bedroom. He closed the door firmly behind us and backed me up step-by-step toward the bed.

The muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth around his words, “You know that whole thing was videotaped by multiple people and the store’s CCTV. The cops will have to investigate if she files a report on you for assault, and that’s only the best case scenario. The worst case scenario is that people will post their videos to social media and it will go viral around the world. I don’t think either of us wish to be found right now.”

I reveled in the excitement of his anger, but I was unapologetic for my actions. “I know that I just blew my cover, and possibly yours, too, but I would have done it all over again. I will not let that shit slide anymore, James. Not after the things I’ve been through and the things I’ve done in the name of protecting humanity. Not even for you.”

In answer, he snatched the bottle of lubricant from my hand and placed it next to the bed within easy reach. “I know all that and I agree with you, but the fact of the matter is that we have been compromised, Котик. We have twelve hours at most before one or both of us will be moved, and I plan to spend that time in more pleasurable ways.”

He didn’t ask for permission as he stripped the cap off my head and tossed it to the side before grabbing my sweatshirt to pull it over my head. He didn’t speak at all as he systematically stripped me naked and posed me to his specifications on the bed. My ass was pointed high in the air and my face was hidden in the fold of my arms that braced my weight on the mattress. He mercilessly spread my knees wide until the entirety of my sex was on display and he ran his metal fingers through my already slippery lips.

If I’d had any doubt about who was in charge here, it was laid to rest when the Soldier’s Russian accent informed me conversationally, “I’m going to fuck you in every conceivable way before someone comes knocking on that door, Котик. It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone to play with.”

To accentuate his point, he noisily dropped his own clothes to the floor before I felt the bed dip with his weight behind me. I was too breathless with fear and lust and adrenaline to speak out, so I simply waited to see what he would do. I didn’t have to wait for long.

He grabbed handfuls of my ass and spread them wide for his gaze. I could feel the heat of embarrassment and shame creeping up my cheeks as he boldly licked a stripe through my pussy and beyond to bathe and lick and penetrate me with his tongue. I cried out into the safety of my arms as he feasted on my pussy until I could feel my own juices running down my thighs, and I welcomed the intrusion of his fingers into my emptiness.

For an unknown eternity, he ate me out and fucked me with his fingers until I hovered on the precipice of orgasm, but he never let me come. I was a mess of sensation and lust, and I gave myself over to his mastery of my body and its responses. He drove me wild with his mouth and his hands until my legs shook and I was begging for him to fuck me. No one had ever driven me to such heights of depravity and wantonness until _him_. “Please, please, please just fuck me, James, please…,” I begged him over and over as he pumped and primed me relentlessly.

He kissed and sucked a messy trail along the swell of my ass as he grabbed the infamous bottle of lube. “Oh, I’m going to fuck you, Котик,” he purred dangerously as he repositioned himself behind me. I gasped in shock when the first cool splash of the lubricant landed on my back hole, and a thick finger was there to catch it and push it inside the resisting muscle. “I’m going to fuck you everywhere.”

I trembled with the overwhelming need inside of me to give him everything, if only for a little while. I trusted James Barnes on the same level I’d trusted Nat, and it was no accident that I hadn’t had sex with anyone since her death. She’d understood me and my desires, and she had spoiled me for other bed partners. Until now. Until _him_.

I knew that anal sex with him would not be easy, but I didn’t care. I’ve had and enjoyed anal sex many times over my adult life, but none of them had ever been like him. James had the kind of cock you only see on free porno sites, and I was not sure I was woman enough to take him there. Still, I trusted him not to hurt me, and I yearned for the domination of his body over mine.

He was not shy about working me open to receive him, either. In no time, he was three fingers deep inside me; and every time I flinched at the burn of the stretch, he added more lubricant and rubbed my clit as he moved in and out of my back hole. He spoke to me in dark whispers the entire time he prepped my ass to take him, his words flowing back and forth between English and Russian as he told me everything he wanted to do to me.

I’d never learned Russian over my career with S.H.I.E.L.D., so I only understood the parts in English. It was more than enough to wreck me. “…want to keep you, use your body over and over…so good, so hot, so tight…want to mark every bit of you as mine…,” he continued, his voice rough and thick with a Slavic accent that made me gush.

“I’m good, James, please!” I cried out, desperate to feel him owning my body and my pleasure. The pressure of his fingers fucking my ass only heightened the emptiness of my pussy, and I was mindless with arrested orgasm at his hands. “Please just fuck me!”

His fingers withdrew from my ass and he wiped them crudely on the bedcover. I waited for him to push against the shrinking muscle with his cock, but he shocked me by plunging deep into my pussy instead. I screamed as he rammed into the end of me and the shockwave of impact sent resounding waves of both pleasure and pain radiating throughout my body. He held me open to his assault with each hand full of my ass cheeks, and he used his purchase on my body to drive me up and down on his thick, unforgiving length. He fucked me relentlessly toward release, but each time I tightened around him, he would grind himself deep to deprive me of the friction I needed to go over.

I was a sobbing, moaning mess of woman by the time he withdrew from my swollen, slippery cunt. I heard the click of the bottlecap and the distinct sounds of him stroking himself before I felt the cool drizzle of more of the lube across my asshole. I released my held breath on a whoosh when he pressed the fat crown of his cock against that sensitive place and pushed his way inside me.

His progress was slow, and we were both panting and sweating by the time the wide, flared head breached the tight entrance to my body and sank inside. My nerve endings were screaming with confused feelings of burning pain and pleasurable possession, but he was eager to claim me fully. He worked his way deeper inside my back channel bit-by-bit, withdrawing and pushing back in further each time until it felt like my ass was connected to a live wire.

He grunted and cursed as he fucked me open with determined strokes, but without apology. His Vibranium hand landed against my ass cheek with a smack, startling a shout from my scratchy throat. “That’s only halfway, Котик. Give me the rest,” he demanded, smacking my ass again for emphasis.

Obediently, I pushed against his invasion even as tears leaked from my closed eyes. My entire body was on fire beneath him, and I was more than willing to burn. A few more determined thrusts seated him fully inside my ass, and he hissed with satisfaction as I struggled briefly against his hold on me. Once again, he gathered me up in his arms and held me captive against his chest as he ground his cock in even deeper.

My scream was part rage and part pain and part triumph. I struggled in his arms, his cock impaling my ass like iron rebar and his arms like steel bands around my body. He held me tight while I raged and cried and screamed at him to _move already_ , but he did not obey my commands. He held me immobile until I wore myself out and sagged against his chest, and he rewarded my compliance by swirling his fingers around my swollen clit until I moaned.

“Do you still want more, Котик?” he rasped in my ear, his words so guttural I barely made them out.

My sob caught in my throat and tears tracked down my cheeks as I choked out, “Yes.”

And then, he moved.

His cock retreated and shoved back into me with punishing strength as he strummed my clit with his fingers, and my head spun with the conflicting messages of searing pain and swelling pleasure. He fucked me hard, fast, and deep, and a steady stream of unintelligible Russian flowed from his lips as he forced my body to not only accept his painful intrusion, but to come because of it.

The pressure of him splitting me open in back battled with the pressure building in my gut as his talented fingers coaxed my orgasm to crest in spite of his thick cock plunging deep into my ass. I crested to the plateau of the battle and I hung there suspended as his hips smacked against my ass cheeks and his fingers grew slick and slippery from my desire. I balanced on the knife’s edge of agony or bliss, and he finally pushed me over to the right side.

“Come for me, Котик. Milk me of my release with your own,” he commanded me, his breath harsh and words unflinching.

On demand, my body and my mind fractured and my voice cracked on a scream as every muscle in my body seized and released over and over again. Each wave of my orgasm crested and surged inside me as he fucked my ass harder until he thrust deep and came with a ragged curse. Even as we both continued to suffer the aftershocks of our coming, his still-hard cock thrust in and out of me on the glide of his copious seed. I could feel it dripping down my thighs, but he was in no hurry to vacate the premises.

He held me tight to him, my back to his chest and his cock still buried in my ass, and he sucked and bit along the arch of my neck as we caught our breath and recovered our composure. “Promise me something,” he demanded roughly, gripping my chin and forcing me to look at him.

“Anything,” I answered, meaning it with my every cell in my body.

He pressed a slow, thorough kiss to my lips in direct contradiction to the violence of our joining. He broke from my lips and breathed, “Promise me that we will find each other again someday. Tell me that this night will not be our last.”

Even though we both knew the future was out of my hands, I whispered softly, “I promise.”


	16. Chapter 16

True to his word, we spent the remainder of the afternoon and most of the night wrapped around each other. I soaked up every kiss, every caress, and every beat of his heart beneath my ear, and I coveted every touch, every stroke, and every possession of my body at his hands. No part of my body was exempt or off-limits to his appetite. After two more baths, I’d given up on trying to keep myself clean. _He_ seemed to enjoy watching his seed decorate my body and spill from my depths.

We rarely spoke, but when we did, we were brutally honest with each other, and by the time we lay together in the destroyed bed at 3 a.m., I finally bared myself down to the soul to him.

We were both still awake and recovering from me riding astride him to a body-melting climax, and I was plastered across his chest with his arms banded around my back. His cock was still semi-hard inside me, but neither of us were in any hurry for him to retreat from my abused depths. I craved the fullness and the stretch of accommodating him inside my body, and I needed his strength and protection to find peace. It was a dangerous feeling being held in the arms of this man, but I had never felt more safe in my life.

“It would be so easy to fall in love with you,” I whispered into the stillness of the dark bedroom.

He didn’t stiffen or panic. He just held me closer and whispered back, “I was just thinking the same thing.”

My heart twisted in my chest and I closed my eyes to listen to his steady heartbeat. I forced myself to say the next words that hurt just as much to say as they would be to hear. “Neither of us is in the right headspace for a serious relationship, though.”

“No, we’re not,” he agreed, his tone full of regret. His arms loosened enough so that he could stroke up and down my spine as he talked. “Sometimes, I wonder if I ever will be in the right headspace again. I’m not really Bucky Barnes or the Winter Soldier anymore, but bits and pieces of both of them are patched together to form who I am today, and I have no fucking clue who that person is supposed to be.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes at the desolation that colored his words, and everything within me cried out to try and fix him with my love, but I knew from experience that it would never work. He had to figure things out on his own before he could ever have anything to offer, and I couldn’t forget my own problems by focusing on his.

“I know exactly who I am,” I replied bitterly, the damned tears leaking from my eyes once more. I felt them pool between my cheek and his chest, but I did not wipe them away. “I am an angry, sad, cynical woman who won’t let anyone get too close to me. It’s easier to keep surviving every single day if I focus on the next mission, obtain control over everything in my life, and keep moving forward. If I stop moving, I’ll have to remember all the loss and pain of the past six years. I can’t even celebrate the anniversary of my mother’s return from death without yelling at her for leaving her bra in the bathroom floor again.”

His Vibranium fingertips ghosted down my sides and over the slope of my ass in a teasing caress meant to distract, but his reply was to the point. “We weren’t dead, Taylor. We were trapped in the quantum realm for what felt like a million years and only a second. Time didn’t work the same way there as it does here. It was jarring to return to our own realm only to find that five years had passed. I’m better at adapting than most out of practice, but I still feel it each time I awaken somewhen else.”

My mind tried and failed to imagine what it must have been like to be cryogenically frozen and thawed repeatedly over the course of the past 70+ years like he’d been. It was impossible for me to understand how he thought and felt, and my instincts screamed at me that he was not completely stable. Not yet. It would only hurt us both if I pushed for something more from him than this, but it was going to hurt me just as much to let him go.

The silence between us settled peacefully as we said goodbye with our mouths and our bodies. There was no more need for words between us, because there was nothing left to say. Maybe someday, if life didn’t kick me out for good, we could come back together make something more of the connection between us, but for now, we could comfort each other in the time we left.

For the first time, I didn’t see the Soldier looking back at me when he rolled me to the bed while staying firmly locked between my thighs. He kissed me slowly, thoroughly, and his hips began to move against mine with easy, shallow thrusts. My hips moved to match his rhythm, and I moaned as his length moved effortlessly in and out of me on the glide of our passion. My knees dropped open, encouraging him to take more, but he did not alter his slow, steady thrusts.

His strong, cut chest pinned me to the bed, and he cradled my jaw with his Vibranium hand as he kissed me breathless. I was beyond exhausted, but something told me this would be the last time I got to touch him, so I did. My hands kneaded the tense muscles of his back and grabbed his firm ass as he kissed a path down my neck. He lifted himself enough to reveal my breasts, and he filled his metal hand with one. He squeezed and tugged and pinched each one until they were both puckered and begging for his mouth.

“Have I told you that you’re beautiful?” he breathed against my neck as he thrust a little deeper and a little harder. “When I was _him_ , did I tell you that I wanted you the first day we met? Did I tell you that it’s been your face in my fantasies since that day?”

My pussy clenched painfully around his thick cock, and my tired body came to life with a vengeance. His words were all the confirmation I needed that he wasn’t entirely in control of himself. It was also confirmation that it was my James that was making love to me, and my heart broke a little bit more at the unfairness of the world. He was a good man who had been broken down and rebuilt to deliver death. Even after everything Hydra had done to him, his innate goodness still survived, and that was what made me love him. Which was why I had to push him away.

I choked back the tears clogging my throat and hid them by pulling him closer and hooking my legs around his thighs. He groaned into the pillow next to my ear as I held him tighter. “Yes,” I gasped into his neck as his hips impacted against mine, “Yes, you did, James. You’ve told me all that and more. Every part of you has treated me with care and passion. You hold more sway over _him_ than you think.”

His breath caught in his throat and he fucked me a little bit harder and faster. “I’m glad he told you what I should have said to you that first time in Wakanda. You’re beautiful, Taylor. You’re strong, intelligent, capable, and sexy as fuck.” He punctuated each word by plunging inside me, and my fingernails dug into the muscles of his back as he ground himself as deep as he could go inside me. He stopped moving for a single breathless moment to whisper in my ear, “And all of me will never stop wanting you.”

I grabbed his face between my hands and pulled him to my lips for a passionate kiss. I didn’t trust myself not to say something that we would both regret, so I used my lips to kiss him and moan his name as he fucked me hard and fucked me deep. “James, oh, James,” I chanted over and over as he gripped my hair in both fists for better purchase.

His hips rang against me like a hammer to anvil, and each strike forced my swollen clit to rake across the steel plate of his lower stomach until I was nearly mindless from the friction. I begged him to go faster, to thrust harder…, “I _’m so close! Please!”_

He used his grip in my hair to force my chin up until I was looking directly into his steel blue eyes. Even with the punishing pace of his thrusts, I saw no hint of the soldier nor heard any accent to his voice.

“I want you to look at me as you come, Taylor,” he commanded me, his rhythm unstoppable, “Remember the one who owns your body and the one who wants it back someday.”

I etched his beautiful face in my mind’s eye, and I tattooed it on my heart just as the tight coil inside me snapped. “James!” I cried out his name as my orgasm rolled through me with wave after wave of sharp bliss. My ears were ringing and my vision whited out, but I could still feel him pounding into me until he stiffened and jerked with a dark groan that only triggered more aftershocks that aided in milking him of his release.

We lay together like that, wrapped up inside each other, until Rosa began to woof excitedly from the direction of the front door just as a loud series of knocks landed on the door. James and I exchanged knowing looks and we both said at the same time, “It’s Maria.”


	17. Chapter 17

Everything moved quickly after that.

My boss was kind enough to wait in the living room with her dog while James and I took turns in the shower and got dressed. We didn’t say much to each other, but we touched every time we squeezed past each other. When we were both presentable, he paused with his hand on the bedroom door and looked back me.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he said without preamble. He seemed almost embarrassed about his outburst, but he continued, “No one else has trusted me completely except for Steve, and now you.”

I couldn’t stand the paltry distance of space between us, and I wrapped my arms around his neck for a hug. He pulled me into his embrace and kissed me firmly on my lips. “You just have to figure out how to add your name to that list, too.”

He smiled against my lips as he squeezed me a little too tight. Our foreheads touched and we shared our last breaths together. “I’m letting you go this time, Taylor. But the next time we cross paths, I won’t do it again.”

He dropped his hold on me reluctantly, and I nearly cried at the loss of his touch. I’d been starved for so long that the click of the doorknob felt like a gunshot and him walking away felt like the end. Maria stood to her feet from where she’d been on the floor with her dog and brushed the stray hairs off her form-fitting black uniform.

“You know,” she began without preamble as we joined her in front of the fireplace, “There was a reason why I didn’t tell either of you about the other. I had hoped to have at least a few weeks’ head start to arrange another safe house for one of you, because I knew this would happen.”

I embraced the familiar cloak of anger that had shielded me for so long and snapped, “Oh, you knew a bigoted lady was going to pick a fight with me? You could have at least given me a head’s up about _that_.”

“And you could have at least done what you were told to do!” she snapped back, showing her teeth and making Rosa whimper. She took a calm, steadying breath and released it before continuing in a more sedate tone, “I tried to do this the nice way, Taylor, but I’m going to spell it out for you. Not only are you too dangerous to allow in the field anymore, but you are also being summoned by the Sorcerer Supreme himself, Doctor Stephen Strange. It seems he’s a bit upset about that clerk you shot.”

My knees gave out and I sank into the couch at her words. “Can he do that?” I asked stupidly.

Maria arched her dark eyebrow and replied drily, “Did you miss the whole ‘Sorcerer Supreme’ part of what I just said? The World Council is still scrambling to put together a united defense, and they don’t want to piss off the wizards that saved our asses. Fury and I have managed to begin negotiations for a meeting, but we are not quite there yet. Until then, you are to stay inside this cabin and do nothing. Do I make myself clear, Agent?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied automatically, my training saving me from running my mouth again.

“And you,” she turned on James, her finger jabbing into the unforgiving muscle of his pec. “I understand why Taylor did what she did in that store, but you’re going to have to explain to me why you walked into the middle of that mess knowing you were being filmed,” she snapped, her dark eyes full of condemnation. “There’d already been a credible sighting of you by a tourist who recognized you and snapped a few secret photos of you on your last visit to town. She then shared those pictures with a wildly popular podcast called _Power Watch_. So, when the videos of the encounter began to pop up all over social media, the rumors were too difficult to squash. Your things have been packed and are waiting for you on the QuinJet. You’re being moved right now.”

Even though we’d both known it was coming, it was still a shock to my system. I blinked back the tears welling in my eyes and scrambled to my feet. James didn’t respond or reply to any of Maria’s accusations; he simply followed her to the door and I followed him. My boss opened the door and paused to call Rosa to her side. Her expression softened with real remorse as she explained, “I can’t leave Rosa with you until this all smooths over. I’m really sorry, Taylor.”

She slipped outside with her dog, leaving me alone with James Barnes. He didn’t turn around to face me or offer me one last kiss, and my fingertips hung suspended just short of touching him. We stood there frozen in our fraught tableau for a long moment before he said softly, “Be safe, Taylor. Until next time.” And he slipped out the door and shut it firmly behind him.

For an entire week, I did nothing but clean, eat, sleep, bathe, and cry. The only thing that escaped my cleaning frenzy was the pillow that he’d slept upon, and I’d taken to holding it to my nose to breathe in his masculine scent. I didn’t know and I didn’t care what was happening in the rest of the world as I mourned the loss of my broken soldier. I grieved each time a bruise faded and my body healed his rough handling, but I was sleeping better and longer than I had in years following his absence. He’d exorcised some of my demons in our brief time together, and I would never forget him.

By the dawn of the eighth day of my confinement, I’d decided I’d had enough of the inside of the cabin. I was tired of crying, tired of being depressed and feeling sorry for myself, and I wanted to breathe the fresh lake air that promised a rare warm, sunny day. I drew the curtains and peered around the empty grounds of my isolated cabin and saw no visible threat to keep me inside. Apparently, Brit and Ash of _Power Watch_ hadn’t managed to track James down to me, and there were no furious, bearded wizards watching me menacingly from the shadows.

I dressed myself carefully in jeans, boots, and a tee shirt and paused before unlocking the door. I was as determined as ever to move forward with my life, whatever that may entail, and I resolved to work on myself so that the next time our paths crossed, I would be ready for him. My life was not going to stop and wait for me grieve. That’s not how survivors roll.

With my shoulders thrown back, I unarmed the alarm and threw the door wide. It was a gorgeous morning with the rising sun glinting off the lake and birds chirping in the trees, and I couldn’t wait to get outside and explore. Just as I stepped through the doorway, the edges of the door frame began to glow with fiery orange sparks that looked uncomfortably familiar. It was too late to prevent my forward momentum, and when I stepped through the front door of my cabin, I arrived somewhere else altogether.

I stumbled and whipped my head around frantically to see where the fuck I was and who the fuck had brought me there. I was in some kind of cavernous room with ceilings two stories tall and gigantic windows that allowed the setting sun to fill the space with natural light. There were tall pedestals with glass display cases featuring artifacts and items like a museum, and shelves full of ancient tomes were stacked on shelves and left open on small tables all over the place. For all it gave off a creepy library/museum vibe, it was more than evident that someone spent a great deal of time there.

I wandered over to one of the windows and looked outside. My knees wobbled and my breath fogged the glass as I looked out over a strange city I’d never been to before, and the sun was now setting in the west instead of rising in the east. “Where the fuck am I?” I said out loud, not expecting an answer from the empty room.

The flap and rustle of cloth had me spinning in place to confront a new threat, and I paled as he floated down from his perch somewhere above me. He landed gracefully mere feet away from me, and he answered my question briskly. “The new sanctum in Mumbai, India. With both Hong Kong and New York sanctums being down for construction, it seemed prudent to open a new one in a different city.”

I swallowed past the ball of sand in my throat and croaked, “Why am I here? I thought our meeting was being negotiated.”

Doctor Stephen Strange’s wicked eyes sparkled with arrogance. “It is still being negotiated even now between my representative and Miss Hill, but I grew tired of waiting,” he answered, sounding thoroughly bored. “We have business to discuss, you and I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***I hope you enjoyed the first story in this series! Yes, I know it's not exactly a love story--yet--but there are so many other delicious flavors to sample first! I try to reply to everyone, so please feel free to post a comment or give feedback! Subscribe to this series or to me to be the first to know when the next story featuring a very dominating Doctor Strange. It will be full of UDS! Peace, love, and kittens to you all!***


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